


Habromania

by OldeShoestrings



Series: Fate Stuff [3]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: A lot of drinks, Alter Arthur Pendragon, Alternate Universe, Arthur is so in love with Gilgamesh, Bottom Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh needs a drink, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:26:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26123461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldeShoestrings/pseuds/OldeShoestrings
Summary: Arthur seeks what has long been gone. To love Gilgamesh again, to be near, to cherish him with his entire heart; Arthur's touches have been gentle and warmth, only holding and never hurting.And yet Gilgamesh still burns for it. Suffers for it.
Relationships: Gilgamesh | Archer/Arthur Pendragon | Saber
Series: Fate Stuff [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790020
Comments: 54
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _(Important A/N: Not an English speaker and this isn't beta.)_

\--

"Your highness, the enemies have breached the Northern Wall!"

Of course, they had. Gilgamesh expected nothing less from the Mad King. Gilgamesh was more surprised his forces hadn't broken through Uruk's last barrier far earlier. It was as if the Mad King was mocking him.

Gilgamesh would have laughed and applauded the man if his situation wasn't so dire. Currently, it was as if he was looking at the end of the world, the soil and loam blackened with dark mud, the roads bestrewn with rotting corpses of Gilgamesh's people, and the sky was murky and bled red.

But it wasn't so. There were no corpses on the roads for they'd properly burned the dead, no black mud spilling in Uruk, and the sky was free and bright as any other day. Some of his people were safe, for the moment, hidden in the cavern under Uruk. Gilgamesh intended for it to stay that way.

"Your highness?" The soldier called out carefully, peering at Gilgamesh, and waiting for his command. "Your highness, I said-"

"I heard what you said," he interrupted loudly. The soldier stammered an apology.

Gilgamesh sighed. He was tired and weary. He hadn't had a proper sleep for nearly seven months now. Regardless of all his efforts, he failed to defend Uruk. Camelot’s forces were like an impenetrable bulwark.

Gilgamesh stood up from his throne and made his way down towards the entrance hall. From Ziggurat, he could see Camelot banners piercing the sky and the many thousands of the Mad King's soldiers sauntering forward. 

Next to Gilgamesh, Siduri silently followed his steps. Ever a shadow by his side.

Gilgamesh refused to accept their defeat just yet. Though he was not a fool. He fully understood what awaited Uruk. Yet to think of surrendering was so shameful that Gilgamesh had to smile ruefully at that. 

"Siduri, gather the remaining soldiers and get the children and women out through the hidden passage. Take the eastern path and follow the sun's shadow. Take whatever resources you need from the vault beforehand."

Siduri blinked at him, suddenly unsure. "Where will we await you, my king?" 

He turned to her and regarded his advisor for a moment. Siduri wasn't naive. She must have known what he truly meant. And yet she still forced her dearest gentle heart to believe that he'd be joining them soon if not now.

"You will not wait."

Siduri frowned. "We're not leaving you behind."

"You _will_. There will be no debates. You will listen to your king's command one last time. Take the survivors and leave."

It was such a strange sight to see rage clouding Siduri's gaze. Her once kind eyes morphed into a sharp glare as she rushed toward him. "We are _not_ leaving without you. _I won't_." 

Gilgamesh didn't bother responding to her. He gestured for the soldier from before to take Siduri with him with a flick of his wrist. The soldier hesitated for a moment before he bowed at the waist and gently pulled Siduri with him. "My lady, we must leave before the Mad King arrives."

She fought the man off. "No. If you stay then I stay! My king!"

Gilgamesh plucked a golden dagger secured to the wall and made his way down the stairs. Siduri's screams fell deaf on his ears. It didn't matter anymore. 

So many of his soldiers were slaughtered mercilessly by the Mad King's army. Villages and farms burned and his people cut down. Their resources were replenished. The city was now destroyed and lit aflame. Soon there would be nothing left.

The Mad King took and took and took and Gilgamesh had nothing left to sacrifice. For seven months-long the war had persisted and Gilgamesh couldn't understand how the Mad King succeeded in outmaneuvering Gilgamesh's every plan and strategy. 

A traitor amongst the midst. Certainly. But even then, he couldn't pinpoint the identity of the hidden eyes working in the shadow. 

If there was ever one. 

Gilgamesh stepped on the last stair and made his way towards the sea of Camelot's forces, the golden dagger still in his hand. All around him there was nothing but flame licking the woods and bricks. The once-great city had fallen at last. In his grave, Lugalbanda must have wept and twisted. 

Gilgamesh stopped once he finally stood just a few feet away from the Mad King. 

His mighty horse galloped once before it came to halt, neighing loudly as the Mad King comforted the stallion. The invader's soldiers surrounded Gilgamesh. One against thousands of spearmen. His head would roll before he could raise the dagger to slit the Mad King's throat.

But no. The Mad King wouldn't allow that. After all, the Mad King had traveled far and brought an end to Uruk because of _Gilgamesh_. 

"You had your fun, Pendragon?" Gilgamesh questioned sharply. His voice dripped with poison. 

Arthur Pendragon - clad in the blackest armor - blinked at him. As if surprised Gilgamesh would even ask such a question. Those pale glowing golden eyes never strayed away from Gilgamesh.

"Are you hurt, Gil?" Pendragon asked so oh very softly. Like he cared if Gilgamesh was wounded. 

Gilgamesh clenched the weapon tighter in his fingers. 

"I asked you a question, Pendragon. You had your fun? You have your sought-after glory after you slaughtered my people and burned my kingdom to ashes?" Gilgamesh didn't know if he had shouted at the other. He was deafened by the wrath pulsating in his veins. 

One of Pendragon's soldiers glared at Gilgamesh and pointed the tip of his spear at Gilgamesh's throat, nicking his flesh and drawing a drop of blood. "You best do well to behave in front of--"

Pendragon raised his lance and brought it down to his soldier's back, impaling the man. His body fell to the ground, twitching before it went still. The blood splashed to Gilgamesh's feet. 

"No harm will come to the king of Uruk. That was my first and most paramount order. I've made that quite clear beforehand, correct?" Pendragon politely directed the question at his people. 

As one, his soldiers answered him resolutely, "Yes, your majesty."

"Very good."

The Mad King dismounted his horse and strapped his beloved Rhongomyniad into the sheath belted to his horse. 

The Mad King left himself vulnerable. Purposely. 

_Look at me. I'm standing here before you. Unarmed. And you still can do nothing but watch._

If Gilgamesh was a fool he'd have struck Pendragon down there and then. Unfortunately, Gilgamesh was not one. So he kept his hand at his side while he observed the approaching Mad King with a potent abhorrence. Waiting. 

When Pendragon finally stood before him, Gilgamesh looked up at him. His glare never dimmed. The other man only tilted his head, smiling softly at Gilgamesh. 

"You didn't answer my question, Gil. Are you hurt anywhere?" Pendragon tenderly ran his hand through Gilgamesh's hair, tucking a few loose strands behind his ear. Gilgamesh briskly pulled his face away.

"Why do you care?"

Pendragon looked hurt by his inquiry. 

"Of course, I care. Why wouldn't I? I love you. I always worry for you," Pendragon muttered, ignoring the small blade Gilgamesh was holding. 

Gilgamesh blinked. Stared at the Mad King for a long moment. Inhaled. Exhaled. A thought suddenly dawned on him. Abruptly, Gilgamesh laughed. There was no mirth in his voice. 

"Arthur, you fool. You absolute fool. Afore, it was only my assumption that you'd come all the way here just to whisk me away like a bride, my will be damned. I laughed at the notion and ridiculed myself. But look at us. Look at _us_ , Arthur! You, the Mad King, massacring my kingdom. And I, the Injudicious King, for thinking you’ve changed! To think that once upon a time we were more than this. To think that once, I presumed you truly did adore me."

"But I still do!" Pendragon claimed. _No_. Arthur. Arthur. This man. This creature. He was Arthur once. Still Arthur now. The gentle Arthur that killed his sister for the good of Camelot, as he claimed it to be. Who sat upon the throne and reigned Camelot better than all the previous monarchs. Crueler but efficient. Beloved and feared by his people. 

Arthur, who once was young and boldly proclaimed his love for Gilgamesh but slaughtered Enkidu because he was scared they'd steal Gilgamesh away from him. Arthur, who apologized again and again and again even though Gilgamesh's affection for him was slowly diminishing over time.

Arthur who was his lover once.

They called Gilgamesh a tyrant king before, cruel and greedy. Perhaps that only because they'd never met the Mad King.

"I love you! You know I do! But you--" Arthur shuttered, looking ruffled, almost close to tears before he gently took Gilgamesh's face in his hands. " _I love you_. I always have and yet you left me behind and never looked back. Do you know how hurtful it is? I just want you. Above all else. That's it, Gil. Please. "

_Kill him here! Kill him kill him kill him!_ Gilgamesh gripped the dagger. He'd kill Arthur here. As an act of retribution, Arthur's soldiers would kill him in return. Just as well. He may have lost everything but he still had his pride. And Gilgamesh would die with his pride in his chest. 

Gilgamesh curled his fingers. _Now now now--_

"Careful with that," a man spoke. In a second, the golden dagger was expertly seized from his hold. Gilgamesh looked over his shoulder to see a man towering over him. Almost as tall as Arthur. 

"Sir Gawain," Arthur hissed in warning, obviously hating the disturbance; uncaring that Gilgamesh was so close to opening his throat. 

"My king." The large man flicked Gilgamesh's weapon to one of his allies, who captured it with ease before he put his hand on his chest and bowed to the Mad King. "We've found a lurker and managed to apprehend her before she could flee."

_She?_

Arthur sent Gilgamesh a passing glance. He nodded at his knight. "Very well, Sir Gawain. Bring her here."

"Unhand me now!" a familiar voice stressed. 

_No. No. No!_

Gilgamesh whirled around to glare at the Mad King. "Arthur--!"

"Lady Siduri," Arthur greeted her sweetly. "It's been a while, isn't it?"

Siduri, thankfully, kept her tongue behind her teeth. Her hands were tied behind her back and she gasped when one of the soldiers forced her down on her knees. Gilgamesh could only stare at her in anger and disbelief.

Arthur was quiet. Too quiet. Gilgamesh preferred it more when he was spewing nonsense. Now the silence was gnawing at Gilgamesh's skin.

Arthur eyed Gilgamesh, his gaze sometimes flickered to Siduri.

"Gil," Arthur finally said. "Will you come with me? To Camelot? Let me court you properly and prove my devotion to you. When you are ready, then we can bind ourselves through marriage." 

Arthur walked towards Gilgamesh again, smiling ever so adoringly at him. "I swear to you I will treat you as my equal. My power is yours, my wealth is yours, my rank is yours, my heart is yours. Anything you want, you only need to name it. Just as long as you're mine, just as long as you're at my side again - anything you desire, I will give them to you."

Gilgamesh backhanded Arthur across the jaws. His soldiers roared but none of them moved. 

Arthur was barely fazed. He only watched Gilgamesh with those faded golden eyes of his. 

"Must you be stubborn?" Arthur asked sadly.

"You'd have me caged, chained to your side and you dare speak of treating me as equal? I'd be nothing but your whore, just a body to warm your bed and nothing else! I know you, Arthur. I loved you once."

"And you can love me again. I'm… I'm sorry for what I did to Enkidu. Truly, I do. I'm sorry their death caused you misery. _I'm sorry_."

"Keep your apologies, Arthur. You murdered my friend, torn my people apart, and toppled my kingdom to ashes. And Artoria--"

"She was a necessary sacrifice."

"She was your _sister_."

"And you think it was easy? Killing her? I dearly loved her. She was close to my heart and yet she'd have razed everything to the ground with her ruling! My people could see it, my knights could see it. Why couldn't you? It was for the greater good!"

"And this?" Gilgamesh waved aimlessly at their surroundings. "Was this for the greater good as well?"

"Yes." Arthur's eyes flashed dangerously. "To reclaim you again? _Yes._ "

Gilgamesh let out a bitter smile. "Then you would have me killed for the greater good as well?"

" _No! Never!_ Never you, Gil. I swear it. I'd rather burn this whole world to dust than to commit such a dreadful sin against you."

_You already did, Arthur._

Arthur looked so close to weeping, horrified by Gilgamesh's obtrusive question.

"It’d be best if you kill me here, Arthur. Because if you didn't, you'd never know peace. I will never stop trying to kill you," Gilgamesh warned darkly.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. Then he glanced at Siduri. Gilgamesh could feel his heart plummet to his belly. 

"How much does sweet lady Siduri worth to you?" Arthur questioned. 

Siduri looked at Gilgamesh at last. Her eyes were glassy but determined. 

"Kill me," Siduri steadily said. "I will not be used to barter for my king's freedom."

Arthur hummed. He stood there, between Siduri and Gilgamesh, saying not a word. Gilgamesh knew Arthur was waiting for something. 

It was heinous of the Mad King, knowing well enough that regardless of the outcome, he'd do anything he needed to do to achieve his goal. Arthur truly believed he'd have what he wanted in the end. 

Gilgamesh's ruby eyes went to Siduri. The priestess was on her knees, eyes rose high without a tint of fear. But there was desperation there. _Why did you have to come back, you fool?_

_How much does sweet lady Siduri worth to you?_

Gilgamesh had known her his whole life. Even before she became a priestess, even before she became his advisor - most of his memories had Siduri in them. Siduri who waited for him in a decaying Uruk, screaming at him for abandoning them, staying by his side even when she'd gain nothing for her unwavering loyalty. 

_How much does sweet lady Siduri worth to you?_

Siduri was very dear to him. He'd lost Enkidu to Arthur. He could not lose her, too.

Gilgamesh did not wish for her death. He was a vain and proud man but he could admit that at least. 

Gilgamesh gripped and pulled at his hair tightly. His mind imbued with rumpled thoughts. Gilgamesh stared at Arthur, who was watching him quietly. The decision was already silently made.

Slowly, Arthur smiled and held out his hand to Gilgamesh. "Come then. We best make haste. It's a long way home to Camelot."

Siduri's face fell. "No. Your highness, don't!"

"Bring her with us," Arthur ordered.

Another one of Arthur's knights pulled her up and sealed her mouth with a cloth. They took her away. Siduri's muffled screams echoed helplessly. 

"Come," Arthur beckoned lovingly. Gilgamesh felt dirty and ashamed. 

He took Arthur's hand all the while glaring at him. Arthur must have found it amusing for he laughed wholeheartedly. 

"Gil. Gilgamesh." Arthur spun him around as if they were dancing, before he put his arm around Gilgamesh's waist, resting his chin on the crook of Gilgamesh's neck, and nuzzling his face. Arthur was tall. Always was so towering.

Gilgamesh stayed still. Appalled by the unwanted affection. 

"You need not worry, my dear. You'll learn to love me again and then you'll be happy."

"I doubt that," Gilgamesh offered curtly. He was so tired.

Arthur chuckled. "Doubt all you want. You will change your mind eventually. I can be _really_ persuasive."

The Mad King stepped away from Gilgamesh, took his hands in his, and kissed the knuckles tenderly. Arthur then affectionately kissed Gilgamesh's forehead. 

When Arthur peered down at Gilgamesh, his face was serene and adoring, his golden eyes softened considerably - as if he was looking at the most precious treasure in the world. 

"I love you. I love you. With all of my heart, I love you, Gilgamesh," Arthur confessed softly. 

Just for a moment, for a flickering second, Gilgamesh felt not hatred or anger, but pity, for this beast. 

For even the noblest soul could fall from grace. 

\--


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(Important A/N: Not an English speaker and this isn't beta.)_

\--

When they were young, Arthur would travel more to Uruk than Gilgamesh would to Camelot. And every time Arthur came for a visit, Gilgamesh would have had a radiant grin on his face. 

He barely showed it in front of prying eyes but having Arthur as his lover was the greatest delight in his life. Gilgamesh's joy was so bright nothing could blind him but Arthur's small and shy smile. 

During simpler times, they were without burdens upon their shoulders. Just two princes hiding under Gilgamesh's sheet, tracing each other's skin and lips and Arthur would compare Gilgamesh to all the stars dotting the universe.

"See? That's the mark I left on your skin," Arthur eagerly pointed out. His finger wandered to the reddish mark on Gilgamesh's chest, where he brushed his thumb against the erected nipple.

Gilgamesh snickered. "Oh yes, Arthur. I'm sure you've left your marks almost everywhere on my skin by now. You were _very_ eager, after all."

"And you were very responsive. Hardly my fault when you're always enticing me. _Arthur, there. Arthur, move,_ " Arthur mimicked his voice ridiculously, his lips curved upward into a tiny grin. "I swear I'm the one doing all the work here."

Gilgamesh laughed.

"Of course! I exist only to be cherished and worshipped! Besides, it's hardly my fault that you can't control your inner beast." He then boldly straddled Arthur's hips, bare skin on bare skin, as he leaned down to kiss Arthur.

Arthur yelped for a moment but the shock was fleeting. He embraced Gilgamesh and returned the kiss fiercely. Gilgamesh could taste the wine and sweets on Arthur's tongue and he waded further into the warmth, seeking more of the gentle affection that only Arthur could ever give him.

The candles were bright fireflies, the breeze was stinging their bones, and Gilgamesh burned so greatly under Arthur when he made love to him. Gilgamesh, like the greedy soul he was, would wish again and again that this moment would be eternal. 

Let Arthur love no else but him until his life was extinguished. 

_(That moment felt so long ago. And Gilgamesh shamelessly longed for what was already so out of reach)_

\--

Gilgamesh was tired. The trip to Camelot felt like it was taking a lifetime. The road was hardly comfortable.

For his sake, Arthur let Gilgamesh ride the vast Royal Carriage alone while the Mad King mounted his trusted stallion, his dark cloak was long and ruffled on his back. 

That was fine with him. Gilgamesh didn't have anything to say to Arthur. He didn't want to be anywhere near his captor. The exchange they had in Uruk was more than enough. 

In the first week of their travel, Gilgamesh barely left the carriage except during the several stops where he was allowed to clean and relieve himself. He ate alone and he slept alone. When he commanded one of Arthur's knights, Sir Tristan, to bring him to Siduri, the man only smiled at him and told Gilgamesh to return to the Royal Carriage. 

In the second week, Gilgamesh always felt Arthur's eyes on him, following his every move each time Gilgamesh left the carriage. Sometimes Gilgamesh would look back just to glare at the other and Arthur would return it with a small sorrowful smile. Presumably, under Arthur's order, Sir Bedivere made sure Gilgamesh's needs were always fully met for the duration of their travel. 

In the third week, Gilgamesh stole a blade from one of the foot soldiers and made an extravagant attempt to stab Arthur in the eye. The Mad King easily deflected his feeble effort with a swing of his secondary blade. His golden eyes flickered to the small carriage where Siduri was being held. Gilgamesh faltered. He released the steel and let Arthur embrace him tenderly. 

In the fourth week of their travel, Arthur finally entered the Royal Carriage, still clad in his black armor, barren of his cloak, as he took a seat across Gilgamesh. 

"You shouldn't mope here all the time. You might ruin your lovely face," Arthur said.

Gilgamesh exhaled. "Leave me be, Arthur. I'm exhausted."

Arthur tilted his head, worried. "Still? So I was right then. It's been more than a month, hasn't it? Did you not have enough rest back in Uruk?"

Gilgamesh glared at him. "And whose fault was that? If you hadn't tried to kill my people and invade my kingdom, I'd have more than adequate rest to keep me steady to tend to my kingly duties."

Now he had no people. No kingdom. No soldiers. Even now, he did not know what had happened to the rest of the survivors. If there was anyone else besides him and Siduri. 

He could ask Arthur if he spared anyone. But Arthur would ask for something in return. Gilgamesh could see it on the Mad King's face. As of right now, Gilgamesh would rather swallow a hundred needles than to request a favor from Arthur. 

The Mad King looked grief-stricken by Gilgamesh's accusation. "I'm sorry, Gil."

"You keep apologizing and yet you still commit atrocities wherever you go if it's for the sake of your kingdom or to fill your desires. You said nothing but I know you condemned me for all the sins I committed when I was in my youth. Now, I see no difference between you and my young wicked self."

Arthur looked troubled by Gilgamesh’s declaration. " _Enough_. I didn't come here to argue with you," Arthur retaliated. 

Gilgamesh paused, uneasy. Not for his sake but for Siduri's. If he riled Arthur too much, Siduri would pay the price in his stead. He must never forget that. 

Arthur would never hurt him. The man had made it abundantly clear. 

But Siduri would not be spared. 

Gilgamesh took a deep breath and looked away. It was getting cold. He knew instantly they were getting closer to Camelot. Only several days left before Gilgamesh would be within his new cage. 

"Gil." Arthur drew closer and framed Gilgamesh's face in his hands. He was forced to look at Arthur in the eye. "Gil, I don't want this coldness between us. You may hate my method but everything I did, I did it for you. Was it wrong of me to reclaim what was stolen from me?"

"Nothing was stolen from you, you mad cur. I left you because you've changed!" Gilgamesh glowered. 

Arthur shushed him and pressed Gilgamesh gently to his chest. The hard armor was cold against his sensitive skin. Gilgamesh tried to push him away, tried to claw at Arthur's face, or even bit him but he couldn't move.

There was barely any strength in his bones and the loud chatters from outside were getting louder and louder, hammering into him and making Gilgamesh wince.

Arthur kissed his forehead, lifted Gilgamesh, and settled him properly between his thighs. Gilgamesh's hands stayed limp. 

_Something's wrong._

He felt so weak. Lethargic. It was as if his bones had melted and his skin was paper. A stringless doll that could do nothing but watched. 

Gilgamesh blinked owlishly. Arthur continued to kiss him - his cheeks, his chin, his nose, his fingers. Gilgamesh was glad that Arthur at least avoided kissing his lips. 

"Arthur."

"Hmm?"

"Why are you here?"

"I missed you. You were so close and yet I couldn't even touch you."

"No, I meant now! You avoided me before and you didn't even reach out--"

Gilgamesh slowly looked up at Arthur. Horrified. "You did something to me," Gilgamesh breathed weakly. 

Which was it? The wine? The cuisine that was served to break his lunch? _Sir Bedivere refused to look at him in the eye when he served the silver platter._

"Your drink," Arthur answered truthfully, smiling down at Gilgamesh. As if he could see the question on Gilgamesh's face. "You look terrible. Dark circles under your eyes and the obvious fatigue on your shoulders. The herbs in your drink will help you sleep well."

"No, Arthur." Gilgamesh gasped for the air that didn't almost reach his lungs. His head went lax on Arthur's chest, his vision blurred by the mist that wasn't there. He was too careless. After everything Arthur had done, he should have known better.

Arthur hummed an old song, strong arms stretched around him, his cheek on Gilgamesh's head. "It's all right, love. I'll be close by. I'll keep you safe."

"Don't-- don't touch m--"

"Hush. Sleep now."

Gilgamesh closed his eyes and he dreamed.

\--

Gilgamesh's eyes fluttered but he felt his body afloat, his spirit tethering to his flesh. His skin prickled. He could not summon his voice. 

What did Arthur put in his drink? 

"What--...you done to him…"

"He's only--...ing--..."

"...promise… don't hurt him--..."

_Siduri_. He knew that voice. Gilgamesh opened his mouth, breathed, and he fell asleep again. 

\--

Gilgamesh woke up to the bites of winter. He was draped in an article of finely-made thick clothing with a furred cloak around his torso. His light sandals were replaced with boots to keep his feet warm and a linen scarf was secured around his neck. The efforts in keeping him warm were handled carefully.

In another time, Gilgamesh would at least be grateful for Arthur. He knew Gilgamesh could barely handle the cold and would oftentimes complain about it in the past.

But this was not in the past. He was still in the Royal Carriage and the views from the windows had tremendously changed. He couldn't see the greenery from the hills and the passing trees - only mountains in white, the relentless snowflakes falling from the sky, and the bleak impenetrable concrete walls. 

Camelot. 

Eventually, the carriage came to a halt and the door was opened by his captor. Arthur smiled upon seeing him awake and well; his armor removed, donning a simpler attire. 

"How do you feel?" Arthur asked sincerely. Gilgamesh scoffed. 

"What do you think?"

Arthur heaved. As if it was an unnecessary chore tending to Gilgamesh. Well. The feelings were mutual. 

"Gil, we're home now and I do not wish to argue with you anymore. What's done is done. You can be furious with me for the rest of your life and nothing will change. Given the choice, I'd make the same decision again and again for your sake. This is where you belong, with me."

Gilgamesh's eyes flared in burning fury. Arthur talked as if he was giving a wounded deer a mercy kill and nothing else. Like he didn't destroy Gilgamesh's entire world. 

He wanted to strangle Arthur and would have probably senselessly done so if it wasn't for Siduri's voice ringing in the air. 

"Your highness, you're awake! Thank the goddess," Siduri exclaimed, pushing Arthur away as she entered the carriage. The Mad King only frowned at her disrespectful manners. 

"Are you well? How do you feel? I was so worried when you wouldn't awake. The Lion King swore to me you were only sleeping but I couldn't believe him even if I tried," she blathered. Even Siduri's attire was changed to accommodate the temperature. 

There were so many things Gilgamesh wanted to ask her but he settled with the only thing he could think of for now. "How long did I sleep?"

Siduri blinked. She glanced briefly at Arthur, who was still frowning at her before she looked back at Gilgamesh. "Nearly four days, your highness," she muttered. 

_Four days?!_

"Siduri--"

"That's enough." Arthur's voice boomed and he impatiently pulled Siduri away from Gilgamesh. She gasped from the harsh tug.

Gilgamesh felt his anger returned tenfold. However, Siduri only gave him a placated look as she was wrenched away. Gilgamesh bit his tongue. He needed to be careful, lest Arthur hurt her even further. 

"Mordred."

"Yes, father?"

_Father?_

"I'll leave the priestess in your hands. Watch over her." 

A young man in silver and red armor came into the view, gently dragging Siduri to his side. He was almost a copy of young Arthur; from his hardened gaze to his short golden hair. He gave Gilgamesh a curious look before he nodded at his… father… and carefully pulled Siduri along with him. 

Siduri spared not a word as she looked at Gilgamesh over her shoulder. 

"Is he Guinevere's son?" Gilgamesh asked, voice monotonous. Arthur devotedly spoke of his affection for Gilgamesh and yet he still went ahead and bedded someone else. 

Arthur looked both surprised and pleased by his question.

"Are you jealous?" Arthur dared to tease him.

Gilgamesh glared. "Absolutely not! But I know the woman is smitten with you." 

Arthur's smile widened. As if he had uncovered a secret tucked away. He held out his hand to Gilgamesh. He didn't take it as he exited the confining carriage. Arthur dropped his hand and let Gilgamesh pass.

"No, he’s not Guinevere’s" Arthur replied. "Mordred is of my blood, that is true. He’s my bastard and yet he's also _not_. It's complicated. Fret not, he won't trouble you. I promise." 

Gilgamesh gave him a bemused look. _What does that mean?_

Arthur enclosed an arm around Gilgamesh's waist, sneaking a kiss to his temple. Gilgamesh clenched his palms so hard his nails almost split the skin. _Don't hit him_. 

"Besides, you needn't worry about Guinevere. I had her executed long ago." Arthur assured him.

It didn't make Gilgamesh feel better at all.

\--

Gilgamesh was herded like a sheep to the quarter that was specifically prepared for him. The guards crowded him. Spears, and shields in their hands. 

Arthur regretted having to leave him alone for now but Arthur needed to tend to the throne and to the important matters he'd deposited to his court in his absence. 

Gilgamesh didn't care. He preferred it this way. 

"We're here," one of the guards mentioned coldly. He pushed the wooden door open and let Gilgamesh enter his new quarter. The door was closed shut and - unsurprisingly - locked behind him. Typical.

It was surprisingly cozy. Embers in the lit fireplace. A rug made from animal skin, probably a bear, situated on the floor. A large canopy bed with white silky see-through fabric draped across the upper space. Two armchairs were placed near the large window, a table, and a small empty wooden bookcase at the corner of the room. 

It was comfortable, at least, for a confinement chamber. 

It didn't feel like home. It didn't feel like Uruk. 

His thoughts wandered to Siduri. He hoped she was faring better than him. 

Gilgamesh breathed loudly. It was cold here. Geographically different. With nothing else to do, Gilgamesh removed his cloak and crawled into the inviting heat under the blankets. 

He'd plan for Siduri's escape later. For now, he rested.

Gilgamesh couldn't tell how long he had been lying in his bed but he heard someone enter the room. A maid, bringing with her a jug of spring water. Gilgamesh hesitated to drink it so he callously ordered the poor girl to take a sip first. 

To make sure it wasn't poisoned or at least tempered with by Arthur.

She squeaked but did as she was told. They both waited there, awkwardly, waiting for the effect to take its roots. _Nothing happened_. Gilgamesh dismissed her offhandedly and she stumbled as she ran towards the exit, scared. 

Arthur must have ordered his servants to follow Gilgamesh's every order. Regretfully, his generosity did not extend to Camelot guards. 

Gilgamesh sniffed the spring water, poured it into the silver goblet, and slowly took a sip. His throat itched. He took another drink.

Afterward, he returned to the bed, waiting. Planning. Night fell and the snow didn't stop. The winter observed him from the night sky. The sound of his people dying was his only constant company. 

Then the door was opened once more and Arthur was there, smiling softly at him.

"I brought dinner. We can eat together." Arthur put the tray of delectable cuisine on the table and took a seat in one of the armchairs. 

"I'm not hungry."

His stomach growled. Gilgamesh flushed. Arthur laughed. 

"Come. Swallow your pride for now and fill your belly. I'm not going to feed you again, you know?"

_Again?_

"Who did you think that fed, cared for, and cleaned you when you were so delirious and stricken with drowsiness for days? Your priestess? No, it was me," Arthur remarked as if reading his thoughts.

Gilgamesh had nothing else to say to that confession. "I'm not hungry," he asserted again. 

Arthur sighed. "Very well. I shan't push you. But if you refuse to eat, I shall lie down with you."

"What? No," Gilgamesh seethed. He made a move to stand up but Arthur was quicker, pushing him down onto the bed and taking his space next to Gilgamesh, Arthur’s arms went around him.

He struggled - body still tired from the aftermath of his long slumber - but Gilgamesh wouldn't stay still and let Arthur do as he pleased. 

Gilgamesh headbutted Arthur's chin once and scratched his cheek until it bled. Arthur only shot him a resigned glance. The satisfaction was short-lived but it was still satisfying. 

Arthur trapped both of Gilgamesh's wrists in his hands, holding them above his head. Arthur pinned the smaller body beneath him with his weight. 

"Why must you always fight me?" Arthur fumed. "Why do you always have to be so selfish?"

Gilgamesh laughed cruelly. "Oh, Arthur. I told you, it'd be best for you to kill me. It'd save us both from another heartbreak."

Arthur brought his face closer to Gilgamesh's. "If you die, she dies a long and slow torturous death. If you fight me, she will be punished. If you make any attempts to escape me, I'll cut her finger off, one by one before I feed them to her. If you do anything, _anything_ , that displeases me, I'll make her bite her tongue until she rips it apart and makes her swallow it," he whispered calmly in Gilgamesh's ear.

Gilgamesh glared. The venom in his eyes could melt even the frosty winter.

"Do you understand, Gil?" Arthur asked gently. 

Gilgamesh clenched his teeth and answered, _"Yes."_

Arthur pecked his nose. “I love you,” he uttered softly. 

Gilgamesh didn’t answer Arthur. He felt the dryness in his throat as another thirst started creeping in again.

In the night, Gilgamesh wished he'd let Arthur kill Siduri so he'd be spared the humiliation. So he’d die with his pride intact. Later on, Gilgamesh felt vile for even letting the thought come to pass. 

Maybe he was just as atrocious as Arthur. 

\--


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(Important A/N: Not an English speaker and this isn't beta.)_

\--

Despite the cold, his throat burned. Gilgamesh chugged a goblet after another goblet and after another one. He ignored Arthur's rueful look. 

"You must _really_ like plain water."

"That gall of yours to spout incessant nonsense when I'm already in a foul mood," Gilgamesh snapped.

"You're always in a foul mood these days. You might have wrinkles before you reach your forties. And we both are nearing our forties," Arthur teased. 

Gilgamesh scoffed. He reached out for the porcelain water pitcher and poured another stream of spring water into his goblet. Arthur huffed and let him be, turning to the reports in his hands.

Gilgamesh studied his captor for a moment. 

Out of his armor, Arthur usually mirrored the ordinary look of a nobleman, not a warrior. Gilgamesh almost forgot this was the same man that burned his kingdom into ruins. _Almost._

He was kept captive inside the grand palace for nearly two weeks now. Arthur vowed he'd allow Gilgamesh to leave the royal ground once he was completely sure Gilgamesh wouldn't try to run off.

If that was the primary term, then Gilgamesh would probably live his days inside this protective bulwark. Arthur seemed to suspect that as well.

Regardless, it didn't deter Arthur from asking for Gilgamesh's company. 

More often than not, the Mad King would request for Gilgamesh's presence in his solar. 

At first, Gilgamesh had assumed Arthur had other intentions for summoning him but it seemed the Mad King himself merely asked for Gilgamesh's guidance regarding difficult official matters.

Such as right now.

"Anyway, where were we? Ah. As I was saying, the crops in the eastern land barely flourished. It's bad enough the distant kingdom is dealing with famine so Camelot has to close off our borders to them. Before winter, some of my villagers had to depend entirely on a terrible harvest. Past winters were difficult as they were. Now it is punishing," Arthur explained. 

Gilgamesh sighed. _Why should I care?_ He'd been asking himself that question for the umpteenth time this week. _Why should I care?_ He didn't. But he cared about Siduri. 

The deposed king put the goblet down and harshly snatched the reports from Arthur. The other only shot him a glance. 

Gilgamesh read the contents carefully and thoroughly; brows furrowed in concentration. _Old habits die hard_ , as old souls would say.

"Here." Gilgamesh placed one of the papers down and pushed it under Arthur's nose. "It's said here you have coal mines that are no longer in use."

Arthur shook his head. "They're no longer in use due to the staggering numbers of bandits in that location. Cut one of them, soon another one will take its place. Uther killed many of them before but they kept coming back. We can't continue to waste our resources on them. They never invade our farmers so we mostly just leave them be. Besides, the quarry we have in Camelot is accommodating enough."

Gilgamesh pondered for a moment. "Numberless bandits. That's odd."

Arthur smiled. "Not really. They were leftovers of Saxon invaders. A soldier turned deserter turned bandit. Happens all the time." Then his smile waned. "But this isn't about them. My people are starving and if we're unable to procure local supplies, then we need to extend our trades to other regions, as well. However, we don't have sufficient supplies to barter for now."

"Then you need to start focusing on these coal mines, too. Not just the one in your kingdom. Camelot depends heavily on the harvest and other products when mines such as this can be just as useful. Steel and iron are valuable, too."

Arthur blinked at him. He looked at the reports, thinking. "I can spare some soldiers but after that, we still need people to guard the mine."

"Use your prisoners. Thieves, murderers, illegal smugglers. All the laws breakers. They sit in that dungeon of yours doing nothing but sit, sleep, and eat. Use their muscles instead of letting them rot away. In your kingdom, everyone is a useful resource." Gilgamesh offered.

Arthur hummed. He held the papers, eyes on Gilgamesh as a gentle smile began to spread over his face. 

Gilgamesh raised a perfect brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Arthur cleared his throat. "I expect nothing less from you."

Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes. He suspected that Arthur might have already come up with a solution of his own. He merely used this opportunity to spend more time with Gilgamesh.

In another time, it'd be touching. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have left my kingdom for too long, huh?" he jested, chuckling.

Gilgamesh glared. "You could have avoided this drivel if you didn't squander precious seconds by overrunning a foreign country to the ground," Gilgamesh said sharply. 

Arthur ignored his provocation. "You didn't wear the necklace I gave you?"

"No. You thought I didn't know what it was? It's a necklace meant to be worn by the king's bride. I know what you're doing and I won't put it around me. You’re asking too much of me. I still have my pride as a king," Gilgamesh sneered.

Arthur blinked but said nothing. Instead, he got up and spared a shy kiss on Gilgamesh's temple. 

Instantly, the fury in his chest burned hotter. Gilgamesh clenched his hands, staying still for a moment, and allowing Arthur to do as he pleased. 

A second later, Arthur sat back down. One of his hands reached out to hold Gilgamesh's as he read the rest of the reports in peace. The silence persisted. 

The desire to pull his hand away and strangle the Mad King was too overpowering but Gilgamesh held the furious whispers down.

He resumed drinking. The water was like a gentle hum in his chest, beckoning. It would at least soothe his thoughts.

\--

Another week passed, another new finely-made attire and jewelry were gifted to him. Gilgamesh ignored the extravagant offerings. To reject such boons wounded his pride. Gilgamesh never imagined he'd clothe himself in anything less than anything majestic. 

Still, he'd rather disparage himself than to succumb to Arthur's wish. He'd already sacrificed far too much, lost too many. Arthur could not possibly strip Gilgamesh of his pride, too.

If Arthur didn't like the outcome, he said not a word. He merely gave Gilgamesh a flickering disappointed look when they had dinner together in the refined great hall. 

Good.

\--

There was a knock on his door. Gilgamesh didn't bother answering since he knew Arthur wouldn't even wait for his response. The man just did whatever he wanted.

However, another knock came. Louder this time but not in a hurry. 

"Enter," he ordered.

A young man entered his quarter. He bowed once before the boy raised his head. 

"King Gilgamesh, your highness. I've come to inform you my king has permitted you to visit the priestess, lady Siduri. If you wish, I can take you to her right now," the boy mentioned politely. 

Gilgamesh--... Well, he wasn't speechless but he knew this generosity Arthur showed must have a price. Still, Gilgamesh couldn't possibly decline the offer. It'd been a while since he last saw Siduri. The curiosity (and concern) was drowning him. 

He studied the young boy. Silver hair. White and faded purple-tinted armor. He was probably only a little bit older than Arthur's bastard. Probably.

"What's your name, mongrel?"

"Sir Galahad, your highness," he answered. Just as polite as the first time.

_Sir?_ A knighted rank? There was a chance this boy might be amongst the knights that had attacked Uruk. Probably was a part of the front line forces, too. Probably had cut his soldiers down. 

Later, he told himself. Gilgamesh could deal with it later. He had far more important matters to prioritize now. The deposed king rose to his feet and signaled for the boy to lead him to Siduri. 

"Take me to the priestess now."

The young knight bowed again and said nothing else as he left the room. Gilgamesh was close behind him. His hands trembled a bit from the untamed cold.

The walk had been relatively quiet. They passed servants and guards, some grand nobles that were visiting the king, and even the Court advisor, Merlin, who spared Gilgamesh a brief smile before he gave him a courteous nod. Gilgamesh didn't return the gesture. 

_(To think that after all this time, Arthur still kept Merlin around)_

None of these people approached him or dared to ogle him any longer than they should. Gilgamesh couldn't be bothered with the significance of that. He was not a trophy to be gawked at.

"We're here, your highness," Galahad said. They stopped in front of a decorated oak door that was facing a large hallway. Across the hallway, there was an empty garden with a small frozen pond. Gilgamesh was at least pleased Siduri wasn't held somewhere dark and sullen. 

"Do you require anything else, your highness?" Galahad inquired. 

Gilgamesh faced the other, scrutinizing. "Were you part of the onslaught?" he eventually asked.

Galahad nodded. "Yes, your highness. I killed many but the only people I remembered cutting down were two of your generals. They fought gallantly and died a warrior death. And if it appeased you, we made sure the children and women fell swiftly and painless. As per the king's order."

No. It didn't appease him. It never could. Gilgamesh clenched his teeth to prevent himself from hurling reviled comments at the knight. He was so close to meeting Siduri. He could not jeopardize the opportunity now. As much as Gilgamesh hated to admit it, what Arthur gave, he could easily take back.

A deposed king had no power in a foreign kingdom.

Gilgamesh said nothing as he entered the room without knocking first. 

Inside, it was warm and mellow. Not as grand as Gilgamesh's quarter but it was acceptable. 

There was a sound of crashing, followed by a sudden yelp, and a barrage of loud footsteps. 

In seconds, Siduri appeared from the corner, scowling at her visitor before the glare quickly softened, replaced by an elated shock once she noted who her visitor was. 

"Your highness--" Siduri sprinted forward, stumbled, regained her composure, and sprinted again towards him. "Your highness!" she exclaimed again. Her eyes were teary as she put her hand on her mouth to muffle the sobs.

Gilgamesh couldn't help himself. Despite the situation, despite himself, he smiled. 

"It's been a while, Siduri." Perhaps the last and only connection he had left of Uruk - right here before him, his advisor. 

Siduri returned the smile. "It truly has, my king." 

It felt good to speak in his native tongue once more. 

\--

There were survivors, Siduri assured, and it was the greatest news Gilgamesh heard in such a long time. Arthur did not order his men to give chase. Siduri returned alone simply out of the stubbornness of her heart and concern for her king. 

Joy. Gilgamesh felt a pure surge of joy. For a moment, it was as if he could take a deep breath, even when he was listening to Siduri complaining about Arthur. 

"--and you wouldn't believe the set of rules the Lion King made me obey!" Siduri's nostrils flared at the mention of Arthur. Gilgamesh had to grin at that.

" _You can do this. You can't do that. Lady Siduri, please understand that you're trespassing. Lady Siduri, I'll have you know entering the physician’s monastery is forbidden--_ it’s infuriating!" Siduri glared at her hands. 

Gilgamesh chuckled. He brought the tea Siduri served to his lips and downed it in one gulp. He was parched but the tea wasn't enough. 

Still, the taste made his chest ache. He knew this particular taste quite well. It was one of the best products in Uruk. 

Arthur must have ordered his men to hoard the specific herbs and burned the rest he didn't need. He probably did it for Gilgamesh's sake considering Arthur knew this was his favorite refreshment. 

However, the act of kindness left nothing but bitter resentment in Gilgamesh's chest. 

"Your highness?"

Gilgamesh looked up at her. He couldn't let Siduri stay here forever. However, he knew Arthur would never let Siduri go. Not if Arthur wanted to put the invisible chains around Gilgamesh's limbs. 

Arthur promised him freedom but he never failed to remind Gilgamesh the price for one.

Gilgamesh had already accepted his fate. He'd die here and he'd take Arthur with him. 

But Siduri--

She needed to be out of Arthur's clutches.

How? He had no friends here. No connections. No weapons. 

"My king, what's wrong?" Siduri asked again. 

Gilgamesh sighed. "Has the Mad King's shared anything with you?"

Siduri frowned. "No. Not really. Only a constant reminder, that's all."

"Constant reminder? Of what?"

"Consequences, should I do not cooperate," she answered quietly.

Gilgamesh's lips flattened. He expected nothing less from Arthur. 

"But." Siduri cleared her throat. There was a faint joy on her face. "At least sir Mordred has been kind to me. He seems… impudent at first. However, he's soft-spoken and seems polite once I get to know him. He brings me fruits from the local markets sometimes. Oh! And he brings beautiful fresh flowers, as well. What a wonder something can still bloom in such harsh weather--"

Gilgamesh arched a brow, surprised by the softness in Siduri's voice. _Arthur's bastard? Really?_ No. Siduri would never judge someone's worth based on their blood or their station. 

Sir Mordred was of Arthur's blood. But to Siduri, he was simply the young man who brought her flowers. 

"And then--"

"Siduri," Gilgamesh interrupted.

Siduri must have realized she was blithering. Her face grew red in embarrassment before she finally schooled her expression once more.

"Forgive me, my king," she expressed regretfully.

Gilgamesh merely smiled, a bit amused.

Silence reigned for a moment.

When Siduri spoke again, her voice lost its previous merriment. 

"I know the Lion King will never kill you, your highness. He claims to love you fiercely but… he can still hurt you and I shudder to think what he's capable of. He executed a maid, not long ago so… casually. He said it was for her own good since she had poisoned herself. But still…" Siduri trailed off. 

"There's nothing he won't do to possess what he desires," Gilgamesh supplied with a scoff. And Arthur desired many things. 

Siduri nodded. "That's why you need to leave, your highness. If you stay any longer--"

The door was pushed open. Arthur set a foot in the chamber, smiling sweetly at them. Siduri went rigid while Gilgamesh only gave the man a cold look. 

Gilgamesh stood from his seat, waiting. On guard.

"Come, Gilgamesh. Let us return to your room. You've been here quite a while." He put his hand on Gilgamesh's shoulder. His gaze drifted to Siduri. The smile stayed. It didn't reach Arthur's eyes.

The spark in Gilgamesh’s belly ignited, cinders and ashes, as he vehemently tried to stop himself from provoking the Mad King. Siduri was here and he couldn't risk her safety so recklessly. 

"Fine," he hissed. He rose to his feet. Arthur's arm went around Gilgamesh's waist. Almost too possessively.

Siduri quickly grabbed the hem of Gilgamesh's sleeve, holding on tightly to him. 

Her eyes shimmered pleadingly at Gilgamesh but even from where he stood, Gilgamesh couldn't understand what was she trying to achieve by being defiant in the presence of their captor. 

"My king," she whispered.

Gilgamesh wrest his hand away and went to Arthur's side. However, Siduri made another similar attempt. Gilgamesh wanted to command her to back down but then he saw the way Arthur's eyes darkened. 

Arthur stepped forward swiftly, his palm went to the hilt of the knife hidden in his belt and--

" _Arthur!_ " Gilgamesh shouted at the other. Arthur stopped, eyes narrowed. He studied Gilgamesh. "Enough, Arthur. I'll go with you." Gilgamesh pulled the Mad King back, trying but failing to create a space between him and Siduri. The priestess stayed still, eyes wide.

So close. So very close. The knife was only a hairbreadth away from Siduri's neck. 

Arthur breathed heavily. His glare was thunderous lunacy, a beast awakened from its sleep. His golden eyes flicked to Siduri, then back to Gilgamesh. 

Gilgamesh could do it here. Take the knife. Overthrow Arthur. Stab him. Assure Siduri's safety. 

Yet at the very moment, Gilgamesh doubted even a dozen men could hold the Mad King down. Not when his wrath was written all over his face. If Gilgamesh reached for the knife, Siduri would lose her life. 

Finally, Arthur spoke. His voice was calm. "Do you know how I put Guinevere to death? How I killed Artoria?" He pressed the steel to Siduri's neck. "With this knife, to their throats." His eyes never left Gilgamesh's. 

"It'd be easy, Gil. Just a flick of my wrist and we'd be burning her corpse until it was ashes," Arthur stated plainly like he was talking about the heat. 

Gilgamesh opened his mouth. And closed it. It was never an act of generosity. Arthur purposely let Gilgamesh visit Siduri. Exactly so Arthur could show him _this._

"Do you understand?" Arthur asked.

_Do you understand what I can do? Do you understand what I can take? Do you understand the authority I have? Do you understand?_

Gilgamesh clenched his hands so tightly his nails scratched his skin. 

"Your highness--" Siduri spoke feebly.

Arthur trudged forward and fisted Siduri's hair. The knife nicked her chin.

" _Damn you, Arthur! Enough!_ " Gilgamesh reached out without touching. 

Arthur just… watched him. 

Then the Mad King threw the priestess to the ground. Hard. Siduri gasped. Gilgamesh didn't look at her. His eyes stayed on Arthur.

They stayed like that for a moment, staring at one another. Like a fleeting chime of a bell, the roots of madness in Arthur disappeared.

Instantly, Arthur tucked the knife away, a smile on his lips, as he sauntered towards Gilgamesh. 

Arthur rested his hand on Gilgamesh's nape and kissed his cheek tenderly. He didn't release him as Arthur whispered sweet promises in Gilgamesh's ear. The deposed king let him. 

The door was still wide open. Outside, he could hear the shuffling of footsteps. Possibly the guards. 

Gilgamesh almost laughed at that. Even if he were to kill Arthur now, the men following Arthur close by would have just killed him and Siduri on sight. 

Arthur brought them to Gilgamesh's quarter. Like most nights, it seemed that tonight Arthur would find his way into Gilgamesh's arms. A replica of happiness of what once was.

"Now will you wear everything I give you?" Arthur whispered once they were finally in the confinement of his room. 

Gilgamesh blinked and blinked before he guffawed. His chest hurt. He was parched. So very thirsty. 

"All these theatrics only because you were hurt I didn't adore your gifts?” Gilgamesh asked, almost in disbelief.

Arthur only beamed. He hummed, took Gilgamesh’s hands in his, and led them into a gentle sway around the room. Gilgamesh stared, lips downturned, heart thundered. He’d forgotten what fear felt like. 

Until now.

\--


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(Important A/N: Not an English speaker and this isn't beta)_

\--

The first time they saw each other, Gilgamesh thought Arthur was the quietest soul he'd ever met, and yet unruly and curious at the same time. He didn't say much, simply stood by his sister's side as their fathers spoke to one another. 

Uther said Arthur was born out of magic, by the blessing of Nimue. He was destined for great things. He had the image of a fine warrior upon him. It seemed to be enough for Arthur, who would never inherit the throne. Naught but his older sister's shadow.

It seemed to be enough for Arthur, who grew fond of Gilgamesh and had all the joy in the world reflected in his eyes when they kissed for the very first time.

"You were made for me. You must know this." Arthur took Gilgamesh's hands in his as he said this. The color of his cheeks was bright red and the shine in his golden eyes was a gentle adoration. 

Gilgamesh could be lost forever in them.

The prince of Uruk grinned at the bold declaration. 

"Oh really? Was I? I was made for all the greatness in the world, Arthur. I was made to be greater than the seas and more brilliant than the sun. Brave of you to assume I was made for you." Gilgamesh's cheeks stretched after he stated this. 

" _No_. You were made for _me_ ," Arthur argued petulantly, a demeanor unfit for a prince. Gilgamesh laughed, both fond and mocking. Arthur was ridiculous. But he was also lovely and charming. 

Arthur leaned forward and took another kiss. And another. And another. What a silly prince. A mere kiss would never be enough to sate Gilgamesh. He was a greedy man with even a greater lust. Arthur should feel so blessed Gilgamesh deemed him worthy to put his hands upon his glorious person.

But Gilgamesh supposed kisses would be enough for now. He could rein in his lust for Arthur if the other wished to play the act of an innocent maiden.

"Your thoughts wander elsewhere, Gil."

"Hmm. Not far enough apparently. Just here and there," he answered and rose to his feet, stretching his back. Gilgamesh could feel Arthur's golden eyes on him. 

Gilgamesh yelped, however, when Arthur pulled him back down by his forearm. He found himself sprawled atop Arthur's lap, limbs everywhere, as the sound of Arthur's thunderous laugh echoed in the royal grounds. 

Gilgamesh's face grew red in anger and he leaped at Arthur but the other prince easily caught him by the wrists, still laughing. 

"You should have seen your face, Gil! You're adorable."

"You dare--" Gilgamesh straightened his posture to make himself appear intimidating. "You dare mishandle me? And called me _adorable_? Me, the future king?" 

Arthur grinned. "Oh, yes. I _dare_."

He swiftly released Gilgamesh but his relief was a brief respite when Arthur dug his fingers in Gilgamesh's ribs and began tickling him. 

"What--?" The laughter came so abruptly that Gilgamesh almost choked on it. He twisted and turned in Arthur's lap, fighting off the incoming onslaught, one after another but Arthur was relentless. Merciless. Gilgamesh was a victim under his vicious attack.

"Enough! Enough, mongrel! Arthur--" Gilgamesh laughed some more. Arthur laughed as well, tickling and stealing kisses, nuzzling his nose against Gilgamesh's, until they both fell backward on the soil behind them. 

Gilgamesh's mind raced. His chest heaved. His cheeks hurt from all the smiling. He looked to his side to see Arthur breathe in and out. His eyes were on Gilgamesh, tender, and beckoning, thumb tracing Gilgamesh's lips.

"That was very disgraceful," Gilgamesh intoned but there were no bites in his voice. 

Arthur smiled. "Sorry," he said without meaning it. He could be a sly fox when he wanted to be.

"Hmm, very well. I'm feeling rather generous today so I shall forgive your defiance," Gilgamesh declared seriously. 

They stared at one another. And then they giggled like little girls without all the burden on their backs. Not princes. Not of royalties. Just Gilgamesh and Arthur. Just them. 

Gilgamesh moved closer so he could rest his head on Arthur's chest. The sound of Arthur's heart was loud and clear. He'd heard the _thump thump thump_ a hundred and a hundred times before and he was still transfixed by it. 

"I love you," Arthur confessed. Such a simple thing. Yet Gilgamesh couldn't utter it as easy as Arthur. Arthur was always better at tender words than him. 

"Are you sure you're worthy of me?" Gilgamesh teased. Arthur said nothing to that. His silence was odd.

Gilgamesh didn't deny that he loved Arthur. He would never deny it. Arrogance was the pillar of his being but even Gilgamesh could admit if there was a spark of change in his heart, then it'd be due to Arthur's gentle touches. 

Silently, Gilgamesh wanted to be worthy of him. To be worthy of all the kindness Arthur had shown him because this was _Arthur_ and Arthur was made of all the starlights in the universe.

Thus why somehow in the future, Gilgamesh could not discern what he was truly seeing. Could not truly accept it.

Gilgamesh saw the bed of flowers painted in red, Camelot was almost in ruins, and dark smog arose in the air. And Gilgamesh saw Arthur leading a rebellion against his sister with the _reformed_ Knights of the Round Table at his side.

Arthur had smiled lovingly at Gilgamesh even after he'd put his sister to death and declared prosperity for Camelot once more. 

This was not his Arthur. Or this was what Arthur Pendragon always had been. Gilgamesh was only blinded by the devotion he harbored for Arthur.

"Am I worthy of you, yet?" Arthur whispered in his ear. Gilgamesh couldn't stand to look at him any longer. 

He left Arthur and he never turned back. 

Gilgamesh found solace in his newfound friend, Enkidu. But Arthur killed his friend, too, and Gilgamesh grieved for Enkidu for seven days and seven nights.

Afterward, they always ended up in skirmishes. Steel against steel. Only between the two of them. Arthur's many attempts to coerce Gilgamesh to his side were almost endless and ferocious until they gradually lessened and finally came to a stop. 

Gilgamesh naively believed Arthur had lost his interest. 

Arthur proved him wrong many, many years later when Uruk's military messenger came darting to the throne room and desperately informed Gilgamesh that Camelot banners were spotted at the edge of the plains. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands of army. Armed to the teeth.

After all this time, he still believed there was a hint of tenderness in Arthur, and Uruk suffered greatly under Gilgamesh's misplaced cognizance. 

They said Arthur Pendragon inherited his father's madness. They said Arthur Pendragon inherited his mother's beauty. They said Arthur Pendragon inherited his sister's mastery in blades and spears. They said Arthur Pendragon was the true ruler of Camelot. _Long live the king. Long may he reign._

_Am I worthy of you, yet?_

No. Impossible. Never in this lifetime. 

_(He loved Arthur still and that was the truth. He loved Arthur so much the truth hurt)_

\--

Arthur moved Siduri to a different location. Still in the vicinity but not in a place where Gilgamesh could easily find her. 

Somewhere safe, the Mad King promised Gilgamesh but Arthur's promises didn't hold any value as of late. Even though he assured Gilgamesh that his bastard son would watch over Siduri.

Now, not only he was shrouded in throbbing concerns for Siduri's wellbeing and the occasional painfully dry throat, but he had to suffer Arthur's constant _hugs_ , of all things. 

The man seemed to wordlessly seek corporeal evidence that Gilgamesh was here and whole, at his side. Close enough for Arthur to stare at him in awe, not a distance away in case Arthur wanted to swathe him expensive cloaks and beautifully crafted jewelry. 

At least Arthur didn't parade him around in his palace. Instead, he was content enough to keep Gilgamesh in his quarter, warmth and safe, away from prying eyes. Gilgamesh could not understand what it was that Arthur truly wanted.

It was such a disdainful situation to be in and Gilgamesh abhorred every moment Arthur was nearby; his arms and familiar heat all over Gilgamesh, whispering endearments that had long since lost their meaning. 

No matter. He'd suffered worse. 

Now--

Gilgamesh coughed. One hand going around his throat, massaging the soreness he could not reach. He glared at the view outside. The coldness was suffocating. 

He was wearing two layers of thick robes and it still wasn't enough. His throat was parched and his skin was chilly to the touch. How could anyone withstand such a punishing season? 

He hated Camelot. 

Gilgamesh tossed a nonchalant glance at the door when it was slowly opened. The maid that had been tending to him bowed once before she gingerly walked towards the long table and placed the tray there. 

The familiar porcelain watch pitcher and chalice came into the view.

She bowed again and made her way towards the exit when Gilgamesh called out to her.

"Wait."

She jumped at that, surprised. They'd never exchanged words before but Gilgamesh's curiosity was spilling all over the place. 

"That maid that had tended to me before you, what's happened to her?"

Odd question to ask, he was sure of it. 

However, Gilgamesh never forgot faces and he vividly remembered the previous fearful girl who had shakily tested the water when Gilgamesh had ordered her to. 

Something lingered in his mind. An uneasiness he could not place, a dark thought he could not name. The same one he'd had since many weeks ago.

He decided to listen to his inkling. 

The girl stammered. "She-- your highness, I beg your mercy but that question is the one I cannot answer."

Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed. She hastily flickered her eyes to her feet, her fingers nervously pinching her dress. 

"Did the king do something to her?"

She looked up, eyes wide, lips trembled. Gilgamesh frowned, perturbed. Something was indeed truly wrong. 

He just didn't know what. Not if he didn't ask Arthur. And he'd rather die from the cold than to satiate his curiosity by asking the Mad King. 

Arthur would be _pleased_ that Gilgamesh reached out to him first instead of the other way around. No. Gilgamesh would not stoop so low. 

"Did he then?" Gilgamesh questioned again, impatient this time. 

"No," she quickly answered. She didn't dare to meet Gilgamesh's eyes. Huh. 

" _Liar_ ," Gilgamesh accused in his mother tongue. 

The girl tilted her head, confused. Gilgamesh scoffed and waved his hand offhandedly, dismissing her from his chamber. 

She acquiesced. The foolish girl was too afraid to speak, bound by her loyalty and the fear she harbored for her king. 

It only solidified Gilgamesh's hunch that Arthur indeed really had done something unfavorable. Whatever that something was, Gilgamesh still had no answer to that. For now. 

Soon, silence enveloped the room. Gilgamesh stood and made his way towards the ever similar water pitcher and the similar goblet that had been prepared for him since the first day of his confinement. 

He observed the water pitcher for a moment. There was ringing in his ears, white noises almost splitting his ears, pleading him to _drink_. Gilgamesh hissed, ignoring it for a moment. The thirst returned, clawing at his throat and the pain tenfold when Gilgamesh breathed. 

He needed to drink. 

Gilgamesh turned away from the tray and desperately gripped the chalice on the table next to his bed. The wine was already cold. Gilgamesh downed it greedily. 

It didn't soothe the thirst but it calmed it down a bit.

Perhaps it was the winter and the soft snowflakes outside. 

Gilgamesh's eyes fell on the innocent water pitcher. 

Or it was something else entirely. 

\--

Arthur took one look at Gilgamesh. Smiled widely and put a hand on the small of Gilgamesh's back. He gently pushed Gilgamesh along with him. 

They left his quarter, going down the large circular stairs, and walked along the opened hallways.

Arthur seemed excited. 

Gilgamesh rolled his eyes at Arthur's obvious eagerness. 

"What's wrong with you? Killed anyone today?"

"Hardly a fair question to ask. Believe what you want but I do not kill mindlessly, Gil."

Gilgamesh huffed. Like he'd believe that. 

They stopped in front of tall columns that were holding the large arch separating the hallways and the entryway. 

Gilgamesh looked at Arthur. Arthur looked at Gilgamesh. 

"I'm taking you out today to the hidden garden behind the castle." Arthur grinned as he said this. Gilgamesh looked at the weather. It was hardly in a proper element to go out and do whatever it was Arthur wanted to do. 

He gave Arthur an unimpressed stare. "In this weather?"

"Gil, the snow is not going to kill you, you know?" 

"It's not the snow that troubles me, you idiot. It's the _cold_. I hate cold. You are aware of this and yet you wish to send me into the freezing mouth of winter."

"Must you be so dramatic?" Arthur asked tiredly. 

"Must you be such an obsessive madman?" Gilgamesh countered.

Arthur scrunched his nose, looking away instantly. As if he was the one that was heavily wronged. 

"I'm not obsessed," Arthur muttered without looking at Gilgamesh. 

He gazed into the distance. His mind was far away and lost in the white blanket that gently draped the earth "I know not how many times I need to tell you this: I'm in love with you. I love you. It's never been just an obsession. Not to me," Arthur confessed wholeheartedly. 

Gilgamesh grew tired of having this same argument. So he kept quiet and just stood by Arthur's side, watching the snow. 

Arthur wanted to take him out but Gilgamesh had no desire in his heart to do anything with Arthur. To be near him.

"I love you," Arthur whispered again. Gilgamesh gave him a look. Arthur's cheeks were as red as his nose. His eyes were loving as he studied Gilgamesh's face.

The deposed king sighed. He looked away. He was _thirsty._ Well, _thirstier_ than usual. The snow was getting to him. Maybe the snow did bother him.

"You want me to love you back when you love me in the way I didn't want to be loved. Leave it be, Arthur. I can never give you what you want. What you have right now should be more than enough."

Arthur always asked for the impossible things. 

The Mad King said nothing. He only kissed Gilgamesh's knuckle. 

\--

The training ground was spacious. The high pillars were sparse. The sunbeams pierced through the windows, illumining the area. Somehow, the cold didn't reach this place. 

Gilgamesh remembered being here many years ago. He remembered how Artoria specifically requested for this wing to be added to the palace. How Uther succumbed to his firstborn's wish. How she and Gilgamesh had duels together. How Artoria kept scores because she knew it’d irritate Gilgamesh. How Gilgamesh pretended it didn’t bother him whenever she won the duels.

She was the first friend he'd lost. The memory of Artoria's determined spirit seemed so long ago. 

In the center of the room, a figure leaped forward, attacking a dummy with a sword. Their swings were precise and devastating. Their groans echoed in the area.

Gilgamesh headed towards them. 

The figure stopped, turned around, and watched Gilgamesh as he approached them. 

Gilgamesh knew this person.

"Arthur's bastard. What a surprise. He allows his illegitimate offspring an entry when this place is meant only for the royal blood." Gilgamesh grinned when the young boy scowled at him.

"I _am_ royal. Father's blood runs through my veins," Mordred spat at him. 

He looked so much like Arthur when he was young. His short hair. The shape of his nose. The contour of his eyes. The clenched of his jaws. Except for the feisty tongue, of course. 

"Perhaps. But it does not erase the fact you are not Arthur’s natural son," Gilgamesh said without barely any quip in his voice. 

Mordred's face grew red. The grip he had on his sword hardened. His eyes flared with obvious hatred.

For a moment, Gilgamesh believed the boy would attack him.

But Mordred simply took a deep breath and sighed, looking away from him.

"Whatever. So what if I'm his bastard? You're his _whore_. An accessory to adorn his side and nothing else. At least he respects me."

With that remark, Mordred resumed his training. 

Whilst Mordred's anger gradually dissipated, Gilgamesh's fury began to burst in his chest, affronted by the boy's bold declaration. 

He seized a blade from one of the many weapon stands.

Mordred was surprised to see Gilgamesh brandishing the fine steel in his face.

"Come then, king's bastard. I'll make you eat your words like the boorish mongrel you are," Gilgamesh announced. He hadn't fought for a long time but he doubted his skills were deficient. 

Mordred blinked. Then he smirked. His gaze ablaze. "Or maybe I'll make you eat _your_ words!" 

The young knight corrected his stance and lunged. 

The match ended swiftly. A few more rounds and the fight still ended with a similar outcome. Soon, Mordred found himself kissing the ground again. His sword sprawled by his side. 

He looked up at Gilgamesh who was grinning like he'd dethroned the greatest tyrant. 

"How did you do that?" Mordred quickly rose to his feet. "You-- the way you moved-- it was brilliant! I have never seen anything like it!"

"It's Urukian, bastard. I dance on the battlefield. I do not clash. Like your people mostly do," Gilgamesh claimed.

If Mordred was offended being called a bastard, he didn't show it. Instead, the boy's grin only widened. 

"I suppose fair lady Siduri was right about you. You're not so bad yourself."

Gilgamesh tilted his head in wonder at the way the boy tenderly said Siduri's name. What a curious thing. 

"Hmph. Perhaps you're not _that_ terrible as well, bastard."

"Call me that one more time--"

\--

Gilgamesh couldn't sleep. His tongue itched and it felt as if his chest swelled considerably. Gilgamesh twisted in his bed. Restless. 

He was so… thirsty. Regardless of how many times he drank, how many times he shouted at the maid to bring him more water, it wasn't enough. Mead, beer, plain water. Not enough. _Not enough_.

Sometimes the dryness was bearable and wasn't as grueling but sometimes, Gilgamesh wanted to skin his throat and drown himself in the river.

He just wanted to drink. More and more and more.

\--

Gilgamesh sat on the windowsill. Down below he could see Arthur's bastard running excitedly across the snow-filled garden. 

In Mordred's hands was... an arrangement of pink flowers tucked safely like a precious gift. 

It must be for Siduri again. 

Gilgamesh could ask Mordred for Siduri's whereabouts. Although, undoubtedly it'd earn Arthur's ire. No. Best not. He'd not gamble Siduri's safety. 

Still. What an odd pair they would make. Siduri and Mordred. Despite Sir Mordred's fiery attitude, he seemed to harbor a tender fondness for Siduri.

It was unfortunate that Gilgamesh could not foresee it to end well.

Not with Arthur looming over them.

\--

Another week passed and he found himself as Arthur's unwilling company. Again. 

"You never attempt to bed me," Gilgamesh casually said. The book in Arthur's hands fell to his lap at Gilgamesh's sudden statement. 

Arthur blushed and tried to hide his reddened face behind his hands.

Gilgamesh shot the man an irritated look. Arthur's behaviors were so odd and out of place. He embraced Gilgamesh but he didn't go too far as trying to claim his body. 

Arthur kissed him but he never aimed for Gilgamesh's lips. For all the terrible sins he'd committed, Arthur had lines even he wouldn't cross. It was all too suspicious.

It unnerved Gilgamesh to no end. Not to say he wasn't grateful. The less Arthur touched him, the better. 

"Wh--what? Of course not! I--I would never!" Arthur stammered. And then he quietly and bashfully added, "Unless you want to, of course." 

Gilgamesh fumed. " _No_ ," he quickly answered. 

Arthur blinked, bemused. "Then why did you ask?"

"Because!" Gilgamesh heaved, "Because isn't that what you seek? What you wish for?"

Arthur raised a brow. "I want you," he told Gilgamesh as if the answer was obvious and clear and Gilgamesh was a tad slow for not understanding something so inherently simple. 

Gilgamesh reeled back the creeping fury. 

The deposed king could not understand the meaning behind that declaration. Maybe he could once upon a time. But that had been many years ago. More than a decade, to be precise. 

Arthur took the book on his lap and placed it on the table before him. The royal library was cold. They were alone. The fireplace illuminated the shadowy darkness and heated Gilgamesh's cool skin. 

In the embrace of the night, Gilgamesh let the question echo in the air. "Was it necessary? To raze Uruk to the ground?"

Arthur smiled sadly at him. "Would you have come willingly with me to Camelot? Be mine and declare your love to me and only to me?"

"No," Gilgamesh stated. 

"Then you have your answer."

"You think I'll ever forgive you? For what you've done? I have not forgiven _myself_ for the past misdeeds I've done. Do you believe I'd find it in my heart to look past yours?" Gilgamesh questioned. 

Strange. He wasn't furious. Just for tonight, he was tired. Weary.

"No. But I know that. The way you are right now, you can never want me," Arthur assuaged calmly. "You are right when you claim that I'm not a saint. I'm a man and all men know greed and love. As for me, I know both all too deeply. It's rooted within me when I first saw you and I swore then that it _must_ be you that I'll love till my dying day. It cannot be anyone but you, Gilgamesh."

His chest throbbed when Arthur said it and Gilgamesh couldn't help but let out a tiny smile. He hated Arthur. Would be furious with him for the rest of his life. It must have been a mockery by God to send someone like Arthur into his life. 

_The way you are right now, you can never want me_

Gilgamesh frowned. He was about to question the meaning behind Arthur's words when he suddenly stopped. And coughed. 

The sound was ugly and terrible. It felt as if razor claws were trying to tear his throat from inside out. He tasted red nectar on his tongue but there was no blood there. The insides of his mouth were dry and his lips were chapped and Gilgamesh heaved like a dying man. 

He felt a gentle hand under his chin, tucking his face upward. He saw Arthur peering down at him, looking thoughtful. 

Arthur was saying something but Gilgamesh couldn't catch even a single word uttered. His tremor from the coughs was wrecking his body.

It hurt. Searing. Hurt. Thirsty. _Hurt. Thirsty._

"Here, drink," Arthur said. Or Gilgamesh presumed he did.

He felt something cold pressing against his lips. 

"Drink," Arthur ordered. 

Gilgamesh did. It wasn't wine. It wasn't sweet. It wasn't ale. It was just water and Gilgamesh greedily drank it all until not even a drop left unconsumed. 

It was still not enough. 

Gilgamesh looked up at Arthur, at his surroundings. It wasn't enough. _It wasn't enough_. There was more of that water in his room. Gilgamesh stood up but Arthur quickly pulled him into his arms and settled Gilgamesh down in his lap.

"Arthur," Gilgamesh's voice was hoarse. His red eyes glistened threateningly. Couldn't Arthur see how dreadfully thirsty he was? He needed--

"Here." Arthur pushed another chalice to Gilgamesh's mouth. "Don't worry. It's just water, Gil." Arthur smiled reassuringly. 

Gilgamesh didn't care for his reassurance. He roughly pried the chalice and desperately downed the water in a few gulps. Arthur was watching him fondly the entire time. 

Once he was done, Gilgamesh took a deep breath. Once. Twice. Until his heart steadied and his throat was barely burning. The thirst didn't completely recede. Arthur gently took the object from Gilgamesh's shaky fingers. 

"It's all right, Gil." Arthur kissed Gilgamesh's forehead. "I have more water in my room. Do you want them?"

_No_. "Yes," Gilgamesh responded quickly. His vision was hazy. Everything was glassy. Blurry. Incomprehensible. 

He thought he was crying but it couldn't be and he thought his spirit was floating and he saw his flesh in Arthur's arms. He thought and he thought and he thought but his mind was in pieces. 

He was so _thirsty._

Arthur put one arm under Gilgamesh's legs and the other arm under his back. Arthur lifted him closer to his chest and let Gilgamesh rest his head on Arthur's shoulder. 

"Shhh. All is well, Gil. I'll take care of you. I promise I'll take care of you," Arthur swore. 

"Arthur, _please_. My throat burns." His pupils were dilated, unseeing. His skin tingled, a husk without bones. He clawed at Arthur’s tunic.

"I know. Shhh." Arthur nuzzled his cheek against Gilgamesh's head as he carried him to the king's chamber. 

Outside, the patches of white slowly began to melt. Spring was coming. 

\--


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took a while! Unfortunately, I finished this chapter three days too late since real life got in the way (T⌓T) sorry again! 
> 
> _(Important A/N: Not an English speaker and this isn't beta)_

\--

"You always put me in an inauspicious position," Arthur grumbled.

"Does it displease you? You’ve agreed to follow me so I shouldn't have had to shoulder all the blames. Be sincere for once and admit that you can never resist me. I'm _irresistible_ ," Gilgamesh goaded.

Arthur sighed. "I suppose. You've made a compelling argument. I expected to be introduced to this famous Uruk's barley beer."

"Trust me. You'll love it. It's my most favorite brew."

"Hmm, might not be mine though."

"Ridiculous! It shall be! My taste is quite refined and you'll agree to it eventually!" 

Arthur tried to refrain himself from grinning jubilantly when Gilgamesh gave him a playful look. He failed in that task. Despite his current predicament, Arthur exhaled and began to chuckle lightly. 

Gilgamesh seemed proud his action managed to ease the tightness on Arthur's face. 

It might not be a terrible idea, after all, being out here, reveling in Uruk's splendor. Being with Gilgamesh. 

"See?" Gilgamesh elbowed Arthur in the ribs. "You're enjoying this. You should learn more from me. Drop the princely facade for once and enjoy life to the fullest, even when you're close to the brink of death. For what is joy if not pleasure?"

"Oh, fine. But we can't be out here all night. My father will be very livid with me if I'm seen acting like a halfwit juvenile."

"You and your family are visiting Uruk and it's hardly princely of me if I don't show you the grandeur Uruk has to offer. Besides, we're still young, Arthur. We can do whatever we want."

"Says you whose parents spoiled you endlessly."

Gilgamesh smirked at Arthur. "Bitter because you're not the favorite child?" 

"Oh, _please_ ," Arthur bit. 

Once upon a time, he'd be hurt by Gilgamesh's taunt because _yes_ , Artoria was the favorite child. Arthur was just the spare. Though, such gloomy thought no longer mattered as he aged.

Now, Arthur was used to his cherished friend's ungracious remarks. Especially after Arthur had realized that more often than not, Gilgamesh didn't mean some of the derisive words he easily said.

Gilgamesh was so used to saying something simply for the sake of saying it. Even if he announced the staunchest edict, it became almost nothing but passing words. At least to Gilgamesh. 

"Well, come then! The Bazaar won't last the whole night!" Gilgamesh gleefully stated. He left Arthur behind and sprinted towards the sea of people. Those who recognized their prince greeted him carefully. 

The sound of the music was loud. The rhythm vibrated throughout the night market. People chattered and hollered and greeted one another. The lights were blinding and beautiful. Uruk was filled with marbles of beauty and footsteps of eager souls.

The festivities were boisterous. 

"Arthur!"

He searched for the voice amidst the crowd and instantly found Gilgamesh standing there, waiting for him, frowning at Arthur with that adorable little pout of his. Arthur smiled, his heart soothed by the sight. 

The world could be so overcrowded and loud and he'd still be able to find Gilgamesh. He'd know Gilgamesh from his ruby eyes, from the way he laughed. Arthur would know him by touch. He'd know Gilgamesh's soul in this life, in the next life after this one, and the many lives after that.

He'd always find him.

"Why do you linger? Quickly! We need to stop at my favorite stall first!"

"Yes yes," Arthur muttered despite knowing Gilgamesh couldn't hear him amid the booming music and the piercing sound of people's voices. 

Arthur strode towards Gilgamesh and boldly took his hand in his. If Gilgamesh was surprised by the gesture, it wasn't written on his face. 

However, Gilgamesh _must_ have known how Arthur truly felt for him. The hand touching, the stolen glimpses, the hidden smiles, and the little blushes. Gilgamesh _must_ have known. The prince of Uruk was not obtuse.

Arthur wasn't looking at where he was going. So when he stumbled and almost fell to the hard surface, Gilgamesh quickly steadied him.

The prince of Uruk laughed at his clumsiness, his hand was still on Arthur's chest. Arthur's eyes lingered on the curve of Gilgamesh's lips and the glint in his eyes when they were alight with mirth. 

Arthur smiled, brushed the golden tresses veiling his friend's forehead, and tucked them behind Gilgamesh's ear.

Gilgamesh stopped and stared at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing. You're lovely to look at," Arthur replied tenderly. 

The shorter man puffed his chest. "Obviously. My beauty is absolute. Everyone knows that."

"But quite short, unfortunately," Arthur teased. Gilgamesh gaped.

"I am _not_. You're just too tall," Gilgamesh rebuked, his nostrils flared. Arthur almost cooed. Gilgamesh was just too adorable.

"The tip of your head only reaches to my shoulder. That's _short_. Hence, cute."

"Mongrel, you dare--"

Wordlessly, Arthur bent down and kissed Gilgamesh's cheek. This time, Gilgamesh did look surprised. Arthur secretly treasured the sight of Gilgamesh stammering and attempting to appear unbothered.

The small blush prettily coloring Gilgamesh's cheeks seem to prove otherwise. 

Instantly, Arthur heard familiar music. He remembered vividly how he caught Gilgamesh in his chamber, dancing to the tune, humming along with the melody. Gilgamesh had looked so free then. 

Arthur grinned at his precious friend. Gilgamesh tossed him a dubious glance. 

"What now?" The other demanded.

"Come on. Let's dance."

"Wha--"

Arthur tugged Gilgamesh's wrist, spun him under his arm before he rested his hand on Gilgamesh's waist. 

They swayed together; their steps were clumsy and graceless. The shorter man yelped, glaring at Arthur afterward for handling him so inelegantly. 

Arthur wanted to apologize. Almost. It was partially his fault for not taking his dancing lesson as seriously as Artoria did. 

"You called this a dance? Pitiful."

"You presume you can do better?" Arthur prodded, eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I don't presume. I know I can do better. _Observe_." 

Arthur's grin widened. "Show me."

Gilgamesh did. Their hands were all over each other, lips closing in but not touching, breaths mingled together, and laughter coalesced with one another. 

Gilgamesh swayed beautifully and Arthur's desire burned hotter.

Their joy was like the first birth of dawn, sparks brightened the sky until everything else became noise. They danced the whole night. A balter under the nocturnal ether as the moon watched them.

Arthur had loved Gilgamesh since the first time he saw him, had sworn he'd love none other but Gilgamesh. His life centered around that love and it anchored him to the earth like a tree's roots. Not even squalls or hurricanes could deter him.

For Arthur who barely had anything precious in his life, Gilgamesh's endearing curiosity and adamant conviction that Arthur was worthy to be by his side was like a certainty. He would not exchange it for all the treasures in the world.

Arthur refused to lose it, to lose Gilgamesh. Whatever it took, Arthur would have his heart. 

_(Whatever he was in the past, whatever he was right now, and whatever he'd become in the future, it didn't matter. What mattered was the truth and the truth was this: Arthur would love Gilgamesh until there was nothing left of him. Not even bones)_

\--

Spring came like a wisp floating in the morning breeze. 

Arthur could taste the sweetness in the air. Felt the cold-warm on the tips of his fingers. He'd need to visit his parents' resting place, as customary. Artoria's, as well. 

Her grave was a little further ahead. A few miles away from their parents'. Up above the hill, overlooking the mountains piercing the heavens. Surrounded with nothing but Artoria's favorite flowers. 

Arthur had personally chosen the spot for her.

Even after everything that had transpired, the conflict that had brewed between them, Arthur had loved his sister. Though he'd enacted the rebellion mostly out of self-serving, Arthur doubted the guilt he felt would ever disappear.

In her last moment, Artoria had looked at him with pity. Arthur had hesitated then to slit her throat. She had owned one-third of his heart, after all. 

_("You poor fool, Arthur. You'll break his heart like you break our kingdom. He'll never love you again. I swear to you this."_

_Arthur drove the knife down into his sister's throat and blood poured everywhere like scattered roses. She choked. Artoria's heart stopped and her body went limp)_

The visit could wait. For now, Arthur had far more pressing matters to attend to. 

"Arthur," a voice greeted him. 

The king looked up from the parchment in his hand; the presence of the newcomer tugged a rare sincere smile from him. Arash returned the gesture, closing the door behind him as he entered the solar. 

Arash had been one of his trusted allies during the Camelot Rebellion, aiding Arthur for the sake of their friendship and the people of Britain. 

The Rebellion had only strengthened their bond and soon Arash became one of the few people that could, occasionally, read the truth behind the guise Arthur bore.

Perhaps a little too much. There were rare times when Arthur would catch Arash looking at him as if Arthur was wearing a human skin to hide the grotesque heart beneath. Yet Arash never addressed it. 

Just as Arash never addressed anything regarding Camelot's incursion into the southern region of Sumer. 

"Arash." Arthur grinned. He placed the papers on the desk and rose to his feet, gesturing for his friend to join him on the balcony. Arash complied with a nod.

Soon, both of them found themselves standing on the platform, staring into the distance. The silence was peaceful. The blue of the land seemed to be dissolving into the sky, gradually dispersing along with the sunset. 

He could feel Arash's eyes on him, waiting. Pondering. 

"You said it was urgent in the letter. I came here as fast as I could," Arash gently said. He rested his elbows on the balustrade, still watching Arthur. 

Arthur hesitated. He was unsure how Arash would react to his request, let alone if Arash was willing to abide by Arthur's wish. He pondered some more, attempting to formulate the proper instructions as best as he could. 

In the end, Arthur decided to be blunt with his friend. 

"There's someone I need you to bring with you to Persia. Far away from here. She is never to return to Camelot. Ever again."

Arash frowned. His fingers thrummed against the ivory surface. "Who is she?"

"Siduri. I shan't elaborate anything further. I believe, in due time, she might entrust to you her identity and the tales of her life. For now, all you will have is her name. I will provide a sufficient amount of gold for you as compensation," Arthur explained.

He needed the Urukian priestess to leave his kingdom as soon as possible. She must not linger here any longer. For her sake, if nothing else.

"Is she in danger?" Arash asked, worried. 

The king nodded. "Correct."

"From what?" The archer straightened his back. He contemplated for a moment and then he rephrased his question. "From _who?_ "

Arthur smiled kindly. "From me."

\--

He and Arash feasted together that night. Drinking mead and exchanging tales.

The people from Arash's caravan performed a traditional dance for Arthur and though he enjoyed the small festivity, Arthur missed his beloved more.

Arthur wanted nothing else but to return to his room and be reunited with his lover. Alas, he must prioritize his kingly duties for now and tend to his guests.

_My beloved must be so thirsty by now. The poor thing. I shall reward him thoroughly tonight._

\--

A day later, Arthur went to Siduri's chamber. 

He found the priestess sitting on the bed with her hands on her lap. Her usual veil was no longer covering her lower face. Arthur could see the downturn of her lips. She was displeased. 

Arthur stood in front of her, studying the priestess. She looked tired, physically, and mentally. 

"You're sending me away," she murmured, without looking up. "With that Persian gentleman?"

Arthur was quiet for a moment. Mordred wouldn't like this.

He saw the way his bastard looked at Siduri. Soft and loving; gentle touches and innocent blushes and exchanged fond stories.

At least, Lady Siduri was kind enough not to pursue anything further. Perhaps for Mordred's sake than her own. 

No matter. The boy simply had to live with Arthur's choice. Like Mordred always did. 

"Yes," Arthur eventually confirmed. "Arash will keep you safe. He's a good man."

"Unlike you," she bitterly accused.

"Believe what you wish, lady Siduri."

Siduri craned her face up to glare coldly at the man, her fingers clenching her long skirt. "I refuse to go. I will not abandon my king. I will not leave him here alone with you."

"Your king is no more, lady Siduri. He is mine now. Uruk is gone. Your people have scattered in the dunes. Go with Arash. This is mercy I've bestowed upon you. Mercy that’s not given to many. Remember my compassion and live your life anew somewhere else. Forget him. Forget Uruk. Live," Arthur announced. 

Siduri was instantly on her feet, her arms at her sides. "What have you done to him? Where is he? _What have you done to him?_ "

"He is well, lady Siduri."

" _Lies!_ " she screamed, her eyes watered. "You think I didn't know it? The people in this forsaken palace - they act as if he didn't exist! Sir Mordred claimed the people outside the walls aren't even aware of his presence! No one's allowed to talk about him! You're keeping my king from the world! Keeping him all to yourself! You swear you'd treat him as equal and yet you hide him from the world! You're nothing but a savage animal!" 

Arthur grabbed both of her wrists harshly and tugged her closer to him until she could see the golden sparks in his eyes. Until she could see the madness brewing in that stare. 

"The world _cannot_ have him," Arthur hissed. "None of you deserve him. When he sought freedom, his people wished to chain him to the throne. When he mourned his parents' passing, his people forced him to hide his heart and bear their burdens instead. When he bled and his bones splintered fighting a war for Uruk, his people demanded more from him!" 

Arthur towered over the priestess, his voice echoed throughout the room like a scorching firestorm. 

"People took and took and took from him and it was never enough for them! I stood by his side and I had to suffer the sight of him being broken down into nothing! And the most harrowing thing of all? He truly believed I'd condemn him for what he'd become when I'd never--... _No_. I won't allow anyone to hurt him ever again. None of you deserve him, do you understand? **_None of you!_** " Arthur snarled. 

He released her with such force she stumbled backward. The back of Siduri's knees hit the bed, causing her to fall on the mattress. She tearfully glanced up at the king. 

"I'd never do anything such as that to my king. I'd never demand more from him. _Never_ ," she proclaimed, her voice didn't waver.

"No," Arthur agreed. "Hence, why you're still alive."

"Enkidu would never, too," she retorted.

Arthur took a deep breath, calming the tremor in his heart. "Yes. But, Enkidu tried to claim what was never theirs."

Siduri's eyes hardened. The hatred didn't subside.

Arthur continued, "For his sake, you're permitted to leave Camelot with your life. And take this with you." Arthur fished a letter from his coat pocket and threw it to the floor. "A letter. From your king."

Siduri's breath stuttered. Her gaze flickered to the letter.

For a moment, he wondered what was written in the letter but Arthur wouldn't sully the trust that was given to him. It was not his place to read the content. 

Arthur left. He headed towards the entrance and for a passing second, Arthur threw one last glance at her.

The sight of Siduri kneeling on the floor, reading the letter with shaky hands and moistened eyes, would forever be seared into his memory. 

\--

The king could not find Siduri amongst the travelers but Arash assured him she was with the rest of the convoy, hiding from Arthur. Apparently. 

Which was fine. Arthur had no more words to spare to her. 

Still, what was written in the letter was enough to break Siduri's resolve. Wherever she may go, despite what happened between them, Arthur at least wished her joy. 

It was what his beloved would want.

Arash and his caravan prepared to leave at dawn. His friend gave him a brief farewell and a warm embrace, promising to visit him again someday in the future. Later on, Arthur watched them leave quietly from afar. 

Arthur heard it then - heavy footsteps, hasty and clumsy against the pavement. In seconds, Mordred was beside him, staring at the departing party sorrowfully.

When Mordred finally looked at him, there was a hint of anger in his green eyes. "You didn't have to send her away with Lord Arash. I could have kept her safe here." _From you_ was left unsaid. 

Both of them could hear it just as loudly. 

Arthur did not answer his bastard. His eyes hardened by the boy's defiance. A thought came to him. "Are you furious with me, Mordred?"

Mordred opened his mouth. Closed it. He looked at his feet. His hands fisted at his sides. "No," the boy answered curtly. "I'm your loyal servant, father. I shan't question your decisions." 

His bastard was always a terrible liar. The bitterness in his voice was as vivid as the anger in his eyes.

Arthur sighed. Things he did for his bastard. "You may visit her one day. I've already informed Arash about it. If you're ever ready to see her again, you only need to notify Arash beforehand. He'll take you to her."

Mordred's face instantly brightened. "I… of course. Thank you, father."

"But remember, she must never set foot in Camelot ever again. If she does, I'll hang her myself. Do you understand?" Arthur warned.

Mordred nodded slowly. He looked onward, gaze filled with longing, and bittersweet affection.

Mordred must truly adore Siduri.

Behind them, the great Camelot stood vigil. The sunrise felt so melancholy. 

\--

Time flew by. 

Another day passed. Another week passed. Another month passed. And another month and another month.

Time continued flying by ceaselessly. 

Soon, Arthur could see the withering leaves from the window. Red, yellow, and brown falling from the trees, spilling them all over the soil beneath; a color of citrus rind acts as a canopy across Camelot. 

Arthur took a deep breath. Momentarily, his thoughts drifted to the halcyon days, to the gentler days. 

"My liege?" 

Arthur blinked. He looked at the source of the voice. Mordred gave him a look, unperturbed by Arthur's sudden silence. 

Ahh. Yes. He was still in a meeting with his fellow Knights of the Round Table. It was careless of him to be fleetingly distracted like that.

"Forgive me. My mind was elsewhere," Arthur smiled at Mordred. The boy nodded as a brief acknowledgment. "Well then, please resume, Sir Mordred," Arthur commanded. 

Mordred harrumphed.

"It's like I said, maybe you were right. Those pricks at the western land might be planning a rebellion. Maybe not all of them but sources say some of those ungrateful churls are being unusual," Mordred reported, appalled. He crossed his arms.

"Sir Mordred, must you be so vulgar in the presence of his majesty?" Sir Bedivere chastised the young knight.

"Oh get your girly ass off--"

"Sir Mordred, _please_. Not now." Sir Galahad sighed. Mordred glared at the other knight.

Arthur couldn't help letting out a small smile before he cleared his throat. "Has it been confirmed by Sir Agravain? If not, we will have to treat this as naught but another hearsay."

He'd sent Sir Agravain to monitor the region there. Not alone, of course. He had a small army with him. Just in case.

"Sir Agravain's letter has arrived this morning. He's confirmed your suspicion is, indeed, correct," Sir Tristan confirmed. 

Arthur nodded. "Very well." 

He supposed he'd be occupied for the next month. Rebels to kill. Bodies to burn. Plans to thwart. Just to be sure, he'd burn the rest of the neighboring villages, too. 

Should he kill the children as well? _When they finally grow up, they might seek to avenge the fallen_ , Arthur thought. Well. He'd think about it later.

Arthur rose to his feet, pushing his seat away. Arthur gave his knights a resolute look.

"We will embark in a fortnight to the marked settlements. I want these vipers to be swiftly dealt with. I will not have another rebellion upon my hands. There's no place for false-hearted fools in Britain." 

As one, the Knights of the Round Table stood, placing their hands over their chests. "Yes, your majesty!"

"That is all. Dismiss."

Arthur left the room. Outside the council chamber, Merlin was waiting for him. Arthur didn't stop walking. Merlin caught up to his steps, strolling cheerily by Arthur's side. 

"You're late," Arthur admonished without looking at him.

Merlin hummed. "Oh, apologies. Got a bit sidetracked. Saw this wonderful maiden--"

"We'll be leaving for the western region in two weeks," Arthur interrupted.

Merlin grinned. "Should I send my little scouts ahead? You saw how they executed their tasks in Uruk marvelously. Admit it! Admit it! You were quite impressed, yes?" 

Merlin poked Arthur's cheek. He slapped his advisor's hand away, annoyed. 

However, Merlin was right. His scouts managed to gather Uruk's movements, position, and strength quite efficiently; integrating themselves into Uruk without complications. Merlin’s little _infiltrators_ played a huge role in toppling Uruk from inside out. Arthur would be a fool if he didn't utilize that potential to the fullest. 

"Fine. Do what you must. But make haste."

"Got it! You just run along to your little darling. I know you can't wait to see him. Leave everything to me," Merlin prodded with a chuckle.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

Yet, again, Merlin was right. He had someplace else he'd rather be. Someone he'd rather spend his time with. 

But first, Arthur needed to make a short detour.

\--

"Morgan."

"Arthur, my dear, it's been a while!"

Arthur sighed. "You saw me yesterday, Morgan."

The royal physician laughed. "I know, I know," she replied, chuckling. Morgan tilted her head and gave the king a rather teasing glance. "The same vial?"

Arthur raised a brow. "Obviously."

Morgan strode towards the many large drawers, opened one of them, and produced a small glass vial from the storage compartment before she closed the drawer back with ease.

Inside, the bluest liquid undulated gently. 

She handed the vial to him carefully. "Here you go. Remember, no one else must have it. And only pour one drop--"

"--per cup. Yes, Morgan. We've been through this again and again," he huffed.

"Such an irascible man, my dear Arthur. I'm reminding you of this because I care for you. You do not wish for a similar... _misfortune_ like that poor maid to occur again, don't you?"

"Sure," Arthur said, voice monotonous. The twinkle in Morgan's eyes glowed brighter. 

"Well then, if the king does not require me anymore…?"

"Of course. That will be all. Thank you, Morgan."

"No gratitude is needed, my king. Simply doing my duty as your most _trusted_ physician."

Arthur did not deign her with a response. He left and he didn't turn back. 

There was not much to say about Morgan le Fay. Except that she dabbled in dark arts, questionable research in the homunculus theory, and mastery in forbidden medicines. 

Also, Morgan had despised Artoria with all of her heart. She'd instantly - eagerly - agreed to help Arthur when he had requested her assistance to dethrone his sister. 

Anything to see Artoria's head roll evidently. Still, her loyalty to him was fragile. She served no one but herself. 

No matter. As per Arthur's order, Merlin already began to study Morgan's intricate research in medicines without her knowledge. 

Soon, he'd burned her remains the same way he'd burned Lancelot's. Arthur would have no would-be traitors in his midst. 

\--

Arthur slowly entered his room and quietly shut the door behind him. 

It was as silent as a tomb in here. The room was shadowy. The curtains were drawn. The flickering flame from the mounted candles was the only source of light in the chamber.

He trudged carefully without too much noise just in case the other was still sleeping--

"Arthur. Arthur, _please_." 

A thin figure hurled himself into Arthur's arms, desperately clenching at Arthur's tunic. The impact barely staggered him. Arthur gazed down lovingly at the person in his arms and embraced him gently, sparing a kiss on his forehead.

The figure shook violently in his hold.

"Arthur, _I'm so thirsty_. My throat--"

"Shh, it's okay. I brought what you need," Arthur assured him calmly. He spared another kiss.

Gilgamesh peered up at him. His pupils dilated, his lips trembled, and his bony fingers feebly holding on to Arthur.

"Yes yes please please please please. I'm so thirsty. So thirsty. So _thirsty_ , Arthur." 

"I know, Gil. It's all right. I'll take care of you."

Gilgamesh was openly sobbing now, scratching at Arthur's garment. Begging. Pleading. Gone was the proud king. Gone was the regale king. Stripped from his pride. A man broken and remade by Arthur.

The anguish in Gilgamesh's gaze was so palpable. His breathing quickened. His ruby eyes desperately followed Arthur's hand as the king pulled out a small vial from his coat. 

Arthur took the water pitcher on the bedside table, filled the goblet, and tipped a drop of the blue decoction into the water. 

"Here you go. It's fine. It's fine, Gil." Arthur soothed his distressed lover. 

He put the chalice on Gilgamesh's lips. The other didn't need to be prompted any further as Gilgamesh greedily drank everything until not even a drop of water left; his trembling fingers went around to Arthur's wrist. 

When he was done, Arthur carefully took the chalice away. "A bit better?"

Gilgamesh nodded, looking dazed and unsure as he observed his surroundings. 

Bits and pieces of himself slowly returning like broken pieces mended together. There was a dim light in his eyes again. Though only by a fraction. Gilgamesh would never be whole again. 

That was fine, Arthur would love Gilgamesh regardless. Fiercely and vastly and passionately. With his entire being. 

Arthur took a hold of Gilgamesh's fingers in his. They were too thin. A side effect of Morgan's decoction. 

Gilgamesh barely ate. Sometimes Arthur had to coax him to eat the cuisine that was served for him. Gilgamesh only ever wanted to drink. 

Arthur hoped Merlin could finish his research soon. The sooner Merlin could brew a finer draught, the better. He wanted Gilgamesh addicted and wholly dependent on him, not violently ill.

"Can I have some more?" Gilgamesh implored a moment later, lips still trembling. "Please, Arthur? More, please? I'm still thirsty. It _hurts._ " Gilgamesh rubbed his neck.

Arthur relented. He could never deny his lover anything when he was so sweet like this. He poured more water into the chalice, tipped another drop from the vial, and gave it to his beloved. 

Gilgamesh quickly drank everything. Ravenous. When he was done, Arthur placed the chalice back on the bedside table.

"Good?" he inquired.

Gilgamesh only nodded, seemingly drowsy. 

He tenderly carried Gilgamesh to the bed, careful not to drop his beloved.

Arthur settled himself on the soft mattress, propping Gilgamesh on his lap so Gilgamesh could rest his head on Arthur's chest. Gilgamesh nuzzled his face on Arthur's chin. He was quiet for a moment and Gilgamesh seemed to notice his silence. 

"What's wrong?" Gilgamesh asked softly. He rested his head on Arthur's neck, too tired to move.

"It's nothing, Gil. Do not concern yourself with trivial matters. I'll handle everything," Arthur reassured.

Gilgamesh let out a soft, content sigh.

"Comfortable?" Arthur asked. He wrapped an arm around Gilgamesh's waist.

Gilgamesh nodded. With the dimmed sunlight that managed to seep through the slits of the curtains, Arthur could see a tiny smile on Gilgamesh's lips.

"I had a strange dream, Arthur," Gilgamesh muttered. He curled deeper into Arthur's protective arms.

"What was it?" 

"A… woman. People. A city. Music. Dunes. Surrounded by… plain lands. So vast I could be lost in the city forever. I can't remember the names. The woman's. The city's. I think… there was a throne. And someone with… green eyes… green hair..." Gilgamesh's voice feebly echoed in the room. His eyes were half-lidded. His head lolled to Arthur's chest.

He held Gilgamesh tighter. There may be a little guilt there, little monsters hiding in Arthur’s chest. However, Arthur had made his choice and he'd hold on to his conviction steadfast to the very end. This was the only way. 

"It was just a dream, Gil. I'm here. I'm real. I'm with you." Arthur tipped Gilgamesh's chin up, pressing down to capture those lips with his. 

He kissed Gilgamesh gently, probing the other's mouth open so he could dip his tongue in and greedily taste his lover like a hungry beast.

Gilgamesh hummed into the kiss, trying to match Arthur's vigor but too weary to do so. He, instead, reciprocated the desire by merely holding on to Arthur.

The king kissed his beloved intensely, his breath pouring over Gilgamesh's skin, making him shiver and yearn for more - because this Gilgamesh only ever had memories of Arthur's touches and kisses and sweet promises and nothing else.

Arthur kept kissing him again and again until they finally pulled away from one another. Arthur was a starving boy and Gilgamesh was a forbidden sweet in the pantry. Arthur would always long for him. 

"I love you," Arthur murmured.

With a broken mind and broken memories, Gilgamesh could love no other but Arthur. Gilgamesh smiled softly at him and uttered the words Arthur had become so addicted to, "I love you, too."

Arthur remembered Gilgamesh's question from so long ago. The one he carried to the heart.

_Are you sure you're worthy of me?_

Arthur was sure he wasn't then. 

But now? Now he felt like he could even eat the world raw. He wanted to be worthy of Gilgamesh. To protect and to cherish him. To be whatever he needed to be to shield Gilgamesh from the world.

Finally, Arthur was worthy now.

_(Besides, who was to say Gilgamesh wasn't happier now? Surely, Gilgamesh must be happy with Arthur by his side)_

They stayed like that for a while. Close to one another in each other's arms, trading kisses and faint chuckles, and their foreheads touching. Arthur could never have enough. Arthur loved Gilgamesh with his entire heart. 

Gilgamesh decided to be a little bit bolder by running his hands under Arthur's tunic and Arthur returned the gesture by mouthing his beloved's neck. His beloved readily offered himself and spread his legs, letting Arthur to slowly undress him, hips grinding against hips until both of them finally burned with lust. 

Gilgamesh was wanton and eager and wet and so very willing to let Arthur take and take and take; whispering to Arthur to take him, to mark him, and to fill him.

Tonight Arthur would make love to Gilgamesh again. Arthur would be inside his lover, would be all over him, drinking in Gilgamesh's pleas and sweet sounds and reciprocating his desires. 

The king would make sure his beloved would be thoroughly loved and cherished. It would always be like this for them. Arthur would make sure of it.

No one was allowed to take Gilgamesh from him. Arthur would **_never_** allow it.

But now was not the time for concerns. For now, they tasted each other. 

Arthur had the weight of the world here in his embrace. Even if his arms would break and fall off, he'd hold on to Gilgamesh until his life was extinguished. 

\--


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished Babylonia anime! My first Fate content ever! To celebrate it, I hurt dearest Gilgamesh in this chapter! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡
> 
> _(Important A/N: Not an English speaker and this isn't beta)_

\--

Summer was still fresh and barely on the horizon when the Lion King departed from Camelot. He took with him hundreds and thousands of soldiers, armed to the teeth, trained and adept in the arts of war. Walls of men with the mightiest shielders and swordsmen and archers. 

There were reasons why Camelot never fell in the many wars they'd fought in the past. Decades before. Centuries before. Camelot continued to stand tall. A divine pillar in Britain. 

The king and his soldiers headed for Uruk.

Mordred stood and watched from the massive gate of Camelot as their shadows became smaller and smaller, swallowed by the world.

His father didn't let Mordred join the war.

_You must be in Camelot. If I fall in battle, you'll govern Camelot in my place,_ his father had said to him in the quietest lull of the night in his solar. 

Mordred remembered how they fought and argued over his father's choice; reminding the king of a sworn knight's place by their king's side, of a knight's honor and duty. Of a son's place by their father's side.

None of those mattered in the presence of his father. _A king's word is law_ , his father had said. _You'll adhere to your king's command. I will not tolerate anything else,_ his father had said. 

So Mordred watched and he waited. Days and nights. Weeks and months. The world stopped for no one. For nothing. 

Mordred waited still for his father's return.

He looked over his shoulder sometimes, hoping his father would finally come home, his conquest prevailed. Alive and unhurt. 

_(The last conversation he had with his father was still a raw memory._

_"You must kill the king of Uruk should I die and fail to obtain him."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because no one else must have him. I'd rather him dead than be someone else's.")_

\--

It had been far too long since Mordred last saw Gilgamesh. Though they'd only interacted a few times, Gilgamesh's presence was full of life, lauded with so many intriguing thoughts and sharp wits. He was someone Mordred could never forget. 

And yet the proof of his presence, the lingering trace of his existence, seemed to vanish. Just like that. Sometimes he remembered the children's tales: of a beautiful human spirited away by a fae who had fallen in love with them. Their existence was completely erased from the mortal realm.

_(But it was not a fair folk that had fallen in love with Gilgamesh. It was something far more sinister. Far more Dangerous)_

Gilgamesh used to walk through the white halls of Camelot and he used to stare at the outside world through the balconies; his eyes longing and his spirit unshaken.

Now Gilgamesh simply just… faded. No longer seen by anyone. 

Anyone but the king. 

Mordred was not blind nor he was a fool. He knew his father was keeping Gilgamesh close to him, hiding him away from everyone.

For a moment, Mordred thought it would have been merciful if Gilgamesh had taken his life before he was ensnared into a far more terrible fate. And then promptly felt guilty for even letting such a terrible thought come to pass. 

He was not curious about the _hows_ and the _whys_ of Gilgamesh’s disappearance at all. Maybe. Well. Just a little bit. He was probably a bit curious. Just the tiniest bit. He supposed. Maybe also just a little bit worried, as well. 

Their first encounter had left an imprint in Mordred’s memory.

But Mordred did not envy Gilgamesh's fate.

The king, though, seemed happier. Vibrant. As if no misery in this world could ever touch him.

Mordred, at least, was happy for his father. He was a good son, after all. 

_And a good son wishes their father joy,_ Mordred thought.

\--

It was Sir Gawain's day of birth. The Knights of the Round Table celebrated it by spending the evening in the town's tavern. 

They huddled closer, boisterous laughter and cheerful hollers filled their table. Sir Galahad looked surprisingly happy. And Sir Tristan made at least a few clever jokes. For once. 

Even Merlin was there with a tankard in his hand, which was a rare thing. Merlin always kept to himself, despite his sunny bearing. Always stayed close to the king from the shadow. 

Merlin must have noticed the eyes on him. He turned around only to catch Mordred staring at him. The man smiled. Mordred raised his eyebrows at that. He didn't hate Merlin but he never liked him. There was always something off about the court advisor. 

If the king was the one who had to make all the hard and impossible decisions for his kingdom, then it'd be Merlin's duty to make sure the king's orders were properly delivered. No matter what.

Mordred didn't doubt Merlin had his hands in Uruk's fall, as well.

"What is it, Mormor?"

Mordred glared at the court advisor. "How many times must I tell you? Don't call me _that_. I'm no longer a child."

Merlin grinned and squeezed his cheek. Mordred growled and slapped the man's hand away.

Then he looked at the doorway, searching for his father. It was not a strange thing for the king to visit the town, especially the tavern. Unlike their previous ruler, who was cold and far too guarded. Too perfect. Almost inhuman. 

Mordred's aunt. Artoria Pendragon. 

"Won't my father be joining us? I thought he'd want to be here to celebrate Sir Gawain's day of birth together," Mordred said to Merlin. 

The other just shrugged. The twinkle in his eyes didn't disappear.

"I'm sure he prefers to spend more time with his… ah, paramour? Lover? I doubt Sir Gawain cares. Besides, we all have the king's best interest in our hearts. I'm sure you understand," Merlin answered with a smile. 

Of course, Mordred understood. Arthur Pendragon's Knights of the Round Table _toppled_ Artoria Pendragon's Knights of the Round Table during the rebellion.

_(Such a shame though. Mordred had grown up listening to the great tales of Sir Kay. Of Sir Lucan. Of Sir Gareth. Of the many brave knights that had served under the late Lion Queen Artoria)_

All these knights with Mordred right now were the men his father had personally chosen to fight by his side and, as Merlin said, they would always _have the king's best interest in their hearts._

Even to commit atrocities in his name. Their loyalty and devotion were exceptional. 

Mordred was one of them but sometimes, he found their loyalty a bit… jarring.

Mordred sighed and took a swig of his drink.

Merlin's mention of _paramour_ suddenly dawned on him. He narrowed his eyes.

"He's with--" he started then stopped. Mordred lowered his voice even though he was sure no one could hear him amidst the roaring laughter. "Is my father with his… with… Gil--... Gilgamesh?" Mordred muttered the word as if it'd curse him if he said the name aloud. 

Merlin's smile vanished, replaced with an eerie grin. "Of course. Who else would it be but the king's most beloved treasure?"

Mordred's lips curled in distaste. He could not understand why. "How is he?" 

"Gilgamesh?" Merlin muttered. "Hmm, as well as anyone can be in his situation."

Mordred didn't know what kind of _situation_ it was. He didn't know if he wanted to know. 

Sometimes, he was just too curious. Even the maids in the castle thought so, too. 

\--

The monastery was strangely peaceful. Books and tomes cluttered on the floor, embers flickering in the fireplace, and the sound of the rain above him was like a gentle rhythm. 

He spotted his mother humming. A mortar and a leather book in her hands.

She heard his footsteps and when she looked up, there was a tiny smile on her face. 

Mordred wanted to believe his mother genuinely loved him despite the circumstances of his… conception. And yet sometimes the way she looked at him disturbed Mordred.

It was as if she was seeing nothing but an interesting specimen for her to study. 

"Mordred, my dearest. You so rarely visit your mother." She put the mortar and the book down before she took him into her arms and embraced him.

"I'm… sorry. Things around here have been quite… hectic," he lied awkwardly. 

The scent of unfamiliar herbs wafted in the air. Mordred stared at the desk behind his mother, noticing a strange glittering blue liquid preserved in a glass jar. 

His mother noticed his gaze and followed his line of sight. She smiled. "One of my greatest accomplishments. Sweet Arthur won't stop praising me for that. Through this, I gave him what he always wanted."

Mordred's brows furrowed. "Is it for drinking or…?"

His mother chuckled. "For drinking, of course, my dear. But alas, you shan't try it," she jested. Then she leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "Not unless you wish to become the king's desperate, royal puppet. It is a _very_ potent drug."

His mother backed away, eyes shone like a madwoman. 

Mordred said not a thing at first, suddenly interested. "You've tested it then?"

"Aye, the outcome is splendid, my dear. I get my results and the king gets his whore. A mutual gain for both of us," she said sweetly. 

_Whore?_

_‘You're his whore. An accessory to adorn his side and nothing else.’_

Mordred flinched, remembering the exchanged harsh words. And then his composure wilted slightly. _No. It couldn’t be._ It was nothing but unsubstantiated speculation. Surely, he and his mother couldn’t possibly mean the same person.

Mordred bit his lips and inhaled slowly. Speculation and nothing more.

_(But he already knew the answer to that. He pretended he didn't. At least, for his peace of mind)_

\--

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"Did you remember what you've said to me about visiting lady Siduri?"

His father's hand stopped. The quill in his hand fell sideway. Then he looked up. He smiled softly. "Certainly. Why? You're thinking of visiting her?"

Mordred nodded. Camelot was peaceful now. Serene. He could leave Britain for a little while. 

He missed Siduri greatly and his heart ached to see her again. Their farewell had been short but bittersweet. He'd visited her room that night, had held her tenderly, had made love to her. Her whines and sighs were precious to him.

_("I don't want to go," she wept in his arms. Bare skin against bare skin. "I don't want to leave my king." Siduri leaned closer into Mordred's warmth. "I don't want to leave you," she whispered._

_He could only hold her tighter._

_The next day, she left and he was too late to see her go)_

It'd be a lie if Mordred claimed he no longer held any bitterness against his father for sending her away like that. 

"I've informed Lord Arash of my intention and I’ve received his reply yesterday. I can show you the letter if you want?”

The king gave Mordred a long look. He was probably a bit upset Mordred didn’t inform him of his intention beforehand. Mordred didn’t avert his gaze. 

"No. It's fine. I believe you," His father said. He added, "Very well. You have my permission. You may leave as soon as you wish. But remember my warning, Mordred," the king reminded severely. "She must never return if she wishes to keep her head."

The young knight's lips puckered downward. He said nothing as he nodded. 

When he left his father's study, a sudden curiosity bloomed in his chest. He looked at the hallway to his right, at the path to the king's hidden chamber. 

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. 

Mordred looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was there. Not even the guards. He looked onward, bit his lip, and walked into the quiet hallway. 

\--

_No guards_. Good. They were probably patrolling somewhere else. Nonetheless, they'd return soon so Mordred quickly but slowly pushed the door open.

His hands trembled. In fear or something else, Mordred wasn't sure. He was breaking into his father's room. Into the _king's_ room. He could suffer a heavy punishment for this.

_Oh, I'm probably going to lose my head._

He was inside. Mordred shut the door behind him. 

The room was oddly dark, dimmed lights coming from the candles, and the curtains were barely raised. It made him feel like a caged hare. 

The air was suffocating. Heavy. Every creak in the room did nothing but heighten his senses. Someone was breathing in the dark, eyes watching him, and Mordred could do nothing but stop.

He didn't even know why he came here. Curiosity? Guilt? Maybe both? 

His gaze roamed in the room. Mordred spoke, "Gilgamesh?"

Another creak.

"It's… me. I'm not sure if you remember. But we--..."

He heard it then. Footsteps, slower at first before it turned into a full sprint, heading right towards him. Before Mordred could do anything, he was pushed down to the floor, a thin figure was straddling his hips, their fingers around Mordred's neck, choking him. 

But there was no strength in the choke. Not when the fingers around his throat were almost skeletal. _Too thin._

Mordred glanced up and was met with a pitiful sight. 

It was Gilgamesh. 

His ruby eyes were wild, unseeing, afraid. His hair was longer, reaching past his shoulders, messy and windswept as if it hadn't been touched for weeks. His cheeks a tad hollowed and shoulders rigid. He was wearing nothing with only the blanket swirling around his hips to cover his lower body. 

Mordred could see soft bite marks and scratches all over his arms.

However, those scratches appeared to be self-inflicted. 

Gilgamesh was trembling. 

This was no longer a man but a frightened desperate animal.

Mordred's hands went to Gilgamesh's, gently prying them off of him. "Gilgamesh, it's me. Mordred," he whispered tenderly. 

Gilgamesh blinked at him. Then he cried. "N--noo. Not Arthur… Arthur Arthur Arthur… where's Arthur? Want Arthur!" he flailed despairingly but Mordred kept him in place.

"Shh," Mordred tried to quiet him. He sat up, carefully cradling Gilgamesh in his arms. Too small and too thin. Gilgamesh weighed almost nothing at all to him. This man wouldn’t even be able to lift a blade.

Mordred was suddenly so afraid for the other man. _What has been done to you?_

"Please Arthur I hurt please please Arthur want Arthur. Thirsty thirsty thirsty…" Gilgamesh muttered frantically, eyes unseeing. "Thirsty thirsty thirsty thirsty--"

" _Gilgamesh,_ " Mordred shushed him again. Someone might hear them and his father was the last person Mordred wanted to see right now. 

Gilgamesh’s lips trembled. His cries became louder. "No! No no no no! Arthur! Arthur! Want Arthur!"

"I know! But please--"

The door was harshly hauled open, almost pulling it off of its hinges. His father stood there in the doorway with a feral look in his eyes. Rhongomyniad clenched in his hand.

Mordred went still. He held Gilgamesh tighter. The other man only cried, attempting to weakly push Mordred away.

The king's golden eyes went to Gilgamesh's shivering form at first, face messy with droplets of crystal as he trembled in Mordred's embrace, calling out to Arthur. Then the king's eyes slowly fell on Mordred.

"Oh, dear," someone said from behind his father. Merlin craned his head to take a closer look at the sight before him.

"Arthur! Arthur Arthur Arthur!" Gilgamesh wailed, one arm hopelessly reaching out for the king.

_That_ seemed to snap the king. He snarled like a mad beast, golden gaze void of anything but the burning desire to reclaim Gilgamesh from Mordred’s hold. And he was like doom in human skin as he trudged towards Mordred. 

Mordred hastily stood and gently put Gilgamesh behind him to defend him from--

"Arthur! Arthur, _stop_. That's Mordred. Your son." Merlin quickly pulled the king away all the while he stared at Mordred in concern. "Mordred. Mordred, come here _now_. We need to leave-- Arthur, no. _Stay back_."

"I-- I can't. Father... Gilgamesh... he's..." Mordred stammered helplessly. What could he do? What could a sheep do against an enraged lion? 

_Something._

He had to say something, at least. Due to the loyalty and devotion to his father, Mordred had turned a blind eye when his father went to war. 

He could have said something to deter his father from his choice to invade Uruk. It wouldn't have changed anything. But still. He could have tried.

Mordred didn't have the heart to turn away this time. 

"Father, look at him. This is not a person anymore. When I was a child, Gilgamesh was always my bedtime story. You would talk about him all the time and it made me feel as if I had known Gilgamesh my whole life even before I met him. Did you remember that? You love him with your whole heart. You said nothing in this world could worth the cost of his life. You said you’d keep him safe no matter what," Mordred claimed anxiously. 

Gilgamesh whimpered behind Mordred, calling out for the Lion King. Unaware of the choking atmosphere. 

"But you're hurting Gilgamesh now, father. What if-- what if he dies?" Mordred asked desperately. 

Arthur's face was red, twisted with anger. Mordred didn't doubt the man would have cleaved him in half if Merlin wasn't there to placate the deteriorating situation. 

"That will never happen. I won't allow him to die. _Ever_ ," his father spoke. 

His voice was strangely calm but there was something devilish in his tone. Something so astoundingly dark. The king’s presence alone loomed over the chamber and Mordred felt the choking pressure. 

_I’m scared,_ Mordred thought with a trembling heart. But Gilgamesh’s cries steeled his heart.

His father’s ablaze golden eyes didn’t shift away from Mordred as he declared his next words.

" _He's mine_ , Mordred. Even death cannot have him. I'll kill the Gods before I let that happen! I'll kill you before I let that happen! I'll burn the entire world before I let that happen! Nothing can take him away from me! **_Nothing!_** "

"Father--" Mordred moved to plead. That was the only opening Gilgamesh needed. He escaped Mordred's protective hold and went running into the king's arms, holding on to the sheet around his body. 

"Arthur Arthur Arthur!"

The moment the king realized the smaller man's intention, he quickly dropped his beloved lance and opened his arms to welcome Gilgamesh. His frenzied eyes instantly flickered away. He gazed lovingly at the deposed king.

Gilgamesh leaped into the open arms, wailing so pathetically like a wounded child.

Mordred could not see traces of the proud and undaunted king. This Gilgamesh right here was nothing but a man completely ruined by his father's machinations. 

Arthur gently tried to pacify Gilgamesh, soothing his stress once Gilgamesh was finally in his embrace. The cries of _Arthur Arthur Arthur_ and _thirsty hurt throat_ were like a chant of cursed spells to Mordred's ears. 

Arthur did nothing to dissuade Gilgamesh's needy whines for him. He only tucked Gilgamesh protectively in his arms, kissing every part of Gilgamesh's skin that his mouth could reach, and seemingly elated that Gilgamesh hopelessly needed him.

Everything else was quickly forgotten. Even Mordred. Even Merlin. 

The king didn't pay any heed to them anymore. Gilgamesh was the only cure to his sorrow and grotesque obsession. 

Mordred wordlessly observed the sight in from of him, face pale, horrified. Merlin took the opportunity to grab Mordred's forearm. He quickly tugged the young man along with him towards the exit.

Mordred tried to fight him off but Merlin was adamant. 

They left the room. Merlin didn't look back, mostly humming to himself. But Mordred did.

He looked over his shoulder and the last thing he saw was of his father with his arms around Gilgamesh, offering a chalice to the smaller man, and murmuring something under his breath.

Wild golden eyes watching Gilgamesh so devotedly. So possessively. 

\--

"You should leave tomorrow. I know you're planning to see that lady of yours."

"Merlin--"

" _Tomorrow,_ " Merlin stressed. "Forget what you saw today. For your own sake if nothing else."

"I can't," Mordred rebuked. 

Merlin tilted his head, watching Mordred. "You didn't care before. Why now?"

"Because I saw him, Merlin. I _saw_ him. How could you expect me to turn my back..." Mordred exhaled. His words died in his throat.

Did the other Knights know? Of course, they knew. Why wouldn't they? He was the only one that was kept in the dark. Again.

Father always left him behind. Mordred could never understand why.

"Then forget," Merlin said again. There was a hint of… sorrow in his voice. Mordred had never seen the man like this before. "And I assure you, Gilgamesh is getting better. His conditions were far worse before. Now, he's slowly… healing. I'm working on it. Trust me," he assured. 

Healing was a kind word to use. Perhaps physically, Gilgamesh would get better eventually. Mentally, Gilgamesh would never heal, would always be chained to the king. 

Gilgamesh would always be the king's broken lover. 

Merlin stood closer towards him and put his hands on Mordred's shoulders, prompting the younger man to look at the court advisor in the eye. 

"Mordred, listen to me: I don't want Arthur to kill you because trust me, he _will_ kill you for touching what's his. Leave tomorrow. I shall send you a letter if I'm sure it's safe for you to return. Do you understand?" 

If. Not when.

It took a while but finally, Mordred numbly nodded. 

_Am I being thrown away by father again?_

\--

Mordred had always known his father was a twisted and cruel man. 

Some said Arthur Pendragon was born with a pair of beautiful green eyes once until he was cursed by a witch to punish Uther for slaughtering her brethren. 

Some said he simply was born mad and twisted that it drove queen Igraine to take her own life. But it was a secret kept hidden from the world. 

Some said Uther Pendragon mistreated his son so cruelly it turned the young prince mad with hatred and vengeance and malice. A soul that was damaged and left starving for even an ounce of affection. 

It didn't matter, Mordred supposed. Who was he to judge his father's plight? Not when Mordred himself was _created_ in his mother's laboratory. 

No matter what, Mordred knew nothing would ever change the fact that Arthur Pendragon would always be his father. 

\--

Mordred was clad in simple attire. He strapped his sword to its sheath and mounted his horse. He had enough supplies to afford him a long journey. 

He'd said his farewell to his mother the night prior. It was too curt and too formal. His mother just gave him a saccharine smile. Far too fabricated. He didn't dare to question her about the drug. 

It might be nothing but Mordred had felt melancholic then. As if it would be the last time he'd ever see his mother. 

Like death loomed over her. 

No. It was nothing but a baseless assumption. His father would never do anything against Mordred's mother. The king needed her. 

Mordred took a deep breath for a moment. His thoughts wandered to nothingness like a ghost. Then he remembered Gilgamesh and for a fleeting second, the wrath and guilt returned. A tidal of sorrow hammering into his chest. 

He tried, didn't he? Was it enough? Should he have done more?

_There's nothing you can do_ , Merlin's voice whispered in the night. 

Mordred sighed. 

_What am I going to tell Siduri?_

Nothing. That was the answer. Nothing. He could forge many lies, spare her from the pain. Let her remember her king as he was before. Not as he was right now. 

Mordred looked up. The sky was red and murky but it was also swathed in bright gold. His path onward would be filled with all of these different colors.

_I'm sorry,_ he thought. Unsure if it was meant for someone but he hoped the wind would carry the faint apology to the one that needed to hear it.

He thought of Siduri. Of her soft eyes and her softer lips. He smiled for a moment. Mordred would make her happy. He swore he would. 

This time, when Mordred left, he did not look over his shoulder. 

\--


End file.
